Right Kind Of Wrong
by bookishgypsy
Summary: Beca needs a job. Jesse needs an assistant. Turns out they need each other more than they thought. Beca/Jesse. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_First multi-chapter fic! I'm hoping to update somewhat regularly, but we'll see what happens. Bare with me._

 _Let me know what you think!_

* * *

"How's the job search coming, Beca?"

Her dads question only causes her eyes to roll far back into her head. He's been asking the same question for two weeks, more persistently then usual, because, well, for one, she actually didn't have a job at the moment. She'd been working at this new indie label, slowly working her way up to _actually_ producing music, and she'd done it. She was producing some demo's for up and coming artists, trying to help them find their sound before they took off to find a bigger and better label that would actually help them launch their careers.

But then, suddenly the label seemed to completely run out of money with no fair warning that they were actually on the downfall. So, the label shut down and Beca was left unemployed and searching Los Angeles high and low for new work.

"It's coming, dad."

"And where have you applied?"

She's beginning to wonder why she even bothered trying to keep in touch with him. He's never supported her choices and he probably never would. "A few indie labels and some radio stations."

"Oh, c'mon, Beca." The disappointment is clear in his voice and she hates that he can't be encouraging in a situation like this, like any other parent would. "After losing your job at that indie label, have you not learned anything? This isn't a stable career option for you."

"Yeah, I know, you've said that like a dozen times before," she says. "Is this the only reason you called? To lecture me on my life choices? Because I have other things I could be doing."

"How about you move back to Georgia for a bit? You could come and live with me while you save some money. I could get you a job at the University."

"Because you work there."

"Or, if you really wanted, we could finally get you enrolled so you could start working towards a degree."

"Dad."

"You wouldn't have to worry about paying rent!"

"It's funny how you think I could actually tolerate living with you and Shelia."

"Beca, just think about it would you? It could be really good for you!" Her dad continues to try and persuade her to head back to the southern U.S, but she's already drowned his words out. She wasn't going to think about it, she wanted to stay in L.A and work towards what _she_ wanted. Not what he wanted for her.

"Sorry, dad! I can't hear you! Driving through a tunnel!"

* * *

Jesse Swanson was stressed.

Like, he was pretty sure a panic attack was not something that was out of the cards for him at this point.

Working for a big jewelry company was stressful. It was even more stressful when you were President of said jewelry company.

For one, the deal he was trying to close with a big department store chain about selling their new teen line of watches, completely and totally just fell through. They wouldn't be purchasing anything from them from now on, he was pretty sure about that. Then, there was the wedding. He'd just had an argument with his fiancé earlier that morning about venue choices. He only wanted something small. She, of course, wanted it as big and elaborate as possible.

"Jesse?"

Jesse looked up and found his secretary, Stacie, peeking her head through the door. "Yes?"

"You have a visitor."

"I'm really not in the mood for visitors, Stacie. I don't really have the time, either."

A head of bright red hair walks in past Stacie. "I thought you always had time for me."

"Chloe. Hey, how are you?" Stacie closes the door, leaving the two of them some privacy. "What brings you here?"

"I just wanted to stop by and see my friend! Is that alright?" She sits in the chair across from him, leaning her arms against the wooden desk between them.

"Of course. You're always welcome, you know that. I might not be the best company today, though."

"What's wrong?"

"The better question would probably be to ask what _isn't_ wrong," he says, reaching for a pen in a cup holder on his desk, signing away at the stack of papers on his desk. Jesse really hated paperwork, which was unfortunate, considering how much of it there was usually to do.

"Is this work related? Does this have anything to do with your fiancé?"

"It's both," he sighs. Chloe was the only person who really knew _everything_ about the relationship with his fiancé. She'd been the only one to notice that it wasn't as much of a fairytale romance as they'd tried to let everyone on to believe.

"What's going on?"

"Just wedding planning disagreements. Nothing new. She wants a big, fancy, wedding with as many people as possible. I'd rather keep it small. Somehow that makes me selfish, even though it's my money she'd be spending."

"I'm sorry, Jesse."

"It's okay, it's not your fault," he smiles at her from across the way.

"What's going on with work? Anything I can help with?"

He's grateful for the quick change of subject. Talking about his relationship wasn't at the top of his list of favorite things to do. "You can find me a new assistant, that'd be a start."

"A new assistant? Didn't you just hire a new one a few months ago? Lilly or something?"

"Yeah, I had to fire her."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't understand a word she was saying! She whispered everything!"

"Actually," Chloe starts, and she's got that edge in her voice that makes him nervous. Chloe's been a great friend, but she could also be trouble. "Maybe I could help you out."

"Really? How?"

"Well, this friend I have, Beca, she needs a new job. She was just let go from her job at a record label."

"I don't know, Chlo. Friends and family, and friends of friends working for each other. Things can get messy. You've seen the movies! Nothing ever works out right."

"You work for your parents jewelry company!"

"And look where I am, Chloe. Not even close to where I want to be. Things are a mess for me."

"She really needs a job. Really, really needs a job. Her dad's going to drag her back to Georgia soon if she doesn't find anything."

"I don't know, Chloe."

"Please, Jesse? It's a win-win. You get an assistant and I help a friend get some work. Please?"

He sighs, looking at the girl across from him. "Does she know her away around the city?"

"She's lived here for five years, now."

"She can work a computer? And a smartphone?"

Chloe laughs at that. "Of course she can. It's the 21st century. C'mon, Jesse."

"Fine. Tell you're friend she's got a job."

* * *

Beca's been spending most of her time at home, lately, ever since she didn't have any working commitments to attend to everyday. It was kind of nice, she had to admit. To just be able to do whatever she wanted, when she wanted, with nothing standing in her way. But, she knew she had to find _some_ work. Which is what she was doing right now. Working on mixes and job applications and sending them out to wherever she could think possible.

Alright, so maybe that's a lie. She'd done nothing all day, hadn't even pulled herself out of bed until noon, and had binged watched four episodes of House of Cards on Netflix all afternoon. It's not like anyone was there to stop her from doing it.

Her phone buzzes on the small coffee table in front of her, flashing Chloe's name on the screen. She reaches for it and answers with a polite, "What?"

"Beca!" Her bubbly friend's voice rings through the receiving end, paying no notice to the tone Beca took with her. Chloe could be really oblivious, to most things, really. "You've been MIA the past few days. What's up?

"Oh, you know. Just working on some mixing and getting job applications done." Alright, she knows it's a lie, but Chloe doesn't need to know what she's really been up to. She wouldn't hear the end of it if she did.

"Any luck yet?"

"No, and my dad is totally on my ass about it. Getting a 'real' job or some bullshit. I've gotta find something quick or else I'll be living with him and Shelia back in Barden."

"What if I told you that I found you a job?"

"I already told you I wasn't going to be a stripper!"

"No, no! Nothing like that!" Chloe always said she was joking when she brought up stripping as a job option, but Beca was always pretty sure the redhead was totally serious about it. "What if I told you that I found you a real job?"

"What the fuck did you do, Chloe?"

"Okay, so you know my friend, Jesse? From college?"

"Not really, but sure."

"He took over his parents jewelry company when he graduated."

"And?"

"Well, he needs a new assistant. And it's yours if you want it."

Beca scoffs, "No thanks."

"Beca, be real. You've been out of a job for two months, and sitting on your couch and watching Netflix isn't going to get you a paying job." Shit, so Chloe did know. She'll have to change that Netflix password so Chloe couldn't access that account anymore. "You don't need to stay there forever. It's just something to get you by for now. Until something comes up at a label for you. And something will come up, I promise you that."

"I hate you so much, you know that right? Like, I seriously don't know why I'm even friends with you."

"So, does that mean you'll take it?"

"Yeah, fine. Okay. I'll take the damn job. When do I start?"

* * *

She hates elevators.

They're cramped, and small, and claustrophobic and she _hates_ it.

She also hates mornings, and considering it's 7:30am and she didn't have any time to stop and grab herself a coffee, she's pretty miserable. It's not the best thing to be on the first day of your new job, but she didn't really have high hopes for this job anyway. She was pretty certain she was going to be miserable with out without caffeine.

She didn't want to do it, the whole assistant thing. And a jewelry company? Not even _close_ to music. Sure, it's a job, but being miserable wasn't worth it either.

The elevator stops at three floors on her way up, before finally stopping on the thirty-seventh floor. She makes her way down the brightly lit hallway; the walls are painted white, there are paintings hanging on the walls, and everything feels so incredibly clean.

Beca turns the corner at the end of the hallway and comes into contact with the first person she's seen on this floor. The girl stands up from her chair immediately at the sight of Beca, reaching over with her arm to shake her hand. "You must be Beca! I'm Stacie, Jesse's secretary."

"Uhh, yeah. I'm Beca."

"I'll take you over to Jesse's office. He's expecting you." She moves out from behind her desk, leading her down another hallway. She points to the left of her and says, "This is the conference room." A few doors down she points in the other direction to another doorway. "This is the break room, it doesn't get used very often. And this," she points to a small little desk directly outside the heavy wooden door that reads ' **Jesse Swanson, President**.' "Is your office."

The door swings open and it's _not_ what she's expecting. Like, at all. She knew he'd only be a few years or so older than her, but still, she expected something _entirely_ different; the geeky type, maybe. Nerdy boy who did acapella in college who's good with computers or some shit like that. But no, Jesse's got dark hair and is _incredibly_ attractive.

"You must be Beca!"

"I'll leave you two to get aquatinted," Stacie says. "Nice to meet you, Beca."

"You, too."

"I'm Jesse," he says warmly, offering his hand for her to shake, which she does.

"Beca."

"Welcome to Swanson Jewelers!" Wow, this guy sure had a lot of energy for 7:30 in the morning. Seriously, who was this upbeat at this time of day? "I'm actually incredibly grateful you actually took Chloe up on this offer, I was desperate for an assistant. It's impossible to get anything done around here by myself." He makes his way into his office and she follows behind him closely. "This is where I spend most of my time, and where you'll spend a lot of yours, too."

"Okay."

"If you ever have any questions, please, don't hesitate to ask me."

Beca just nods. She doesn't know what to say. I don't want to be here? I only took this job because I'm seriously desperate? They didn't seem like good things to say to your new boss, even if it _was_ the truth.

"So," he says, looking at the watch on his wrist. "I've got an 8am meeting and I'd love to have a cup of coffee for that. Your first act of duty as my assistant is a coffee run."

A coffee run? Really? Is that all she was going to be doing around here? Sure, that might be a simple task, but she's better than that, right?

"Sure."

"You can see Stacie on your way out for orders."

Bec turns on her heel and starts making her way towards Stacie's office once again. She's surely going to kill Chloe if her job is going to be her fetching coffee for other employees. Okay, so maybe it wasn't terrible. She hadn't had her morning cup of coffee, yet, either, and she sure could use one right about now.

* * *

She makes her way back up to the thirty-seventh floor, holding the tray with three beverages placed inside the plastic tray of cupholders, and a bag of pastries sitting on top of it. Her car keys are in her mouth as she pressed the buttons on the elevator and rushes back up to her office.

It took her over an _hour_ to get coffee from Starbucks. And it was only a twelve minute drive down the street. It should have taken her _half_ that time. But not in Los Angles, of course. Nothing ever goes according to plan. There was an accident on the freeway, just to her luck, because no one knew how to fucking drive in this city.

She loved Los Angeles, she really did, but the people here were not the best of drivers. In fact, she's pretty sure they might be the worst in the whole country.

She hands Stacie her iced pumpkin spiced latte and the croissant she asked for, before heading back towards her office and Jesse's. She's about to turn the corner when she bangs into something, no _someone,_ _hard_ , both coffee's in her hand spilling all over his white button down shirt.

"Dude, what the hell?"

She doesn't know why she reacts like this; nothing even got on _her_ clothing, her shirt was still dry, unlike his. Still, she finds it frustrating that he didn't even seem to pay attention to where he was walking.

"You just spilt coffee all over me! My coffee!"

"Well, maybe you should watch where you're walking next time," she says.

"Me? What about you?" She can see the anger in his face, but really? It was just coffee, get the shirt dry-cleaned and everything will be fine.

"Look, I just spent an hour out in traffic getting your damn coffee. You could at least be grateful," she says. She _really_ didn't want to be here. She's only been on the clock for an hour and she's _exhausted_. She wasn't cut out to be someones assistant, running their personal errands and all that shit. She was capable of so much more.

"Grateful? I didn't even have coffee for my morning meeting! What the hell took you so long?"

"There was an accident on the freeway. Not apart of my plan either, alright?"

"Freeway? There's a coffee shop across the street, you should have just walked!"

"You know what," she says, pulling her keys up from the floor. "I don't need this. I'm outta here."

She'd only lasted about an hour on the job, but if she's being honest with herself, she lasted a lot longer than she thought she would have.

* * *

"You did what?"

Chloe's voice is loud through the receiving end of the phone when she breaks the news to her about her first day at work. "I spilt coffee all over him and walked out."

"But why would _you_ walk out?"

"Because this job is stupid! I don't belong working for a jewelry company as someone's assistant. I should be out working at a record label, or a radio station. Something that's going to push me further into my career. This is only going to push me back."

"Beca, that doesn't even make any sense."

"Sure, it does."

"You've spent the past two months sitting on your couch watching Netflix, without any form of income. You need money. Waiting for the right opportunity to come up for you isn't going to happen. You need to work until you're able to find something that _is_ right for you."

God dammit, she hated when Chloe was right. This job wasn't even close to what she wanted to be doing. But, she was still right. She needed some form of income to pay the bills if she wanted to stay in LA, she knew that. She just didn't want to end up stuck there forever, and she was terrified that it was an actual possibility and that she may never achieve her dreams.

"Bec? You still there?

"Yeah. Okay, fine. Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right," she says. "You need to go back tomorrow and apologize to Jesse."

"Ugh. Chloe, no. I hate apologizing."

"You should have thought about that before you stormed out of the building," Chloe says, laughing.

"I'm pretty sure he's going to fire me anyway."

"He's not going to fire you over something so stupid," she laughs. "It's Jesse and he's probably the sweetest guy I've ever met."

"I doubt that."

"Trust me, you'll still have your job in the morning."

* * *

She's one hundred percent sure she's going to be fired.

She knew a desk job wasn't going to be something she was great at, but she didn't really think she'd mess up by _spilling_ _coffee_ all over her new boss's work shirt. Or storming out of the office. On her _first_ day nonetheless. It was hopeless. She knew she shouldn't have even taken Chloe up on this offer. She should have just been looking for jobs at a label, that was where she belonged, anyways. Not working for a jewelry company.

She knocks softly three times on the dark door, waiting for his quiet, "Come in," before finally making her way into Jesse's office. "Beca, hey."

"Umm, look," she starts out slowly. Apologies were never her thing, okay? She wasn't good at them, and she probably never would be. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to spill the coffee all over you."

"No worries. Those things happen," he smiles.

"And I'm sorry for storming out on you. It's possible that I might have overreacted."

"Apology accepted," he says.

"So, should I just, leave?"

"What are you talking about? It's 7:30am, you're day just started."

"I'm definitely fired, aren't I?"

He laughs at that and she isn't sure what's so funny. "Why would you be fired?"

"For spilling coffee all over you. For storming out. Pick one."

"It turns out, I didn't react the best to that yesterday, and I apologize on my behalf," he says. "I'm not usually that much of a dick over something so juvenile. My meeting did not go very well and I took that out on you and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry for that."

"I just assumed that…"

"Things are just really stressful around here right now. I shouldn't be taking that stress out on you, or anyone else, and I'm sorry for doing that, yesterday."

"No worries. It happens, I guess," she shrugs.

"Well, you definitely have a job if you still want it."

"Oh. Okay, cool," she says. "I'll just…head back to my desk then."

"Actually," he stops her from her leaving the room. "Could you go on a coffee run for me?"

 _Suck it up, Beca_ , she tells herself. This is only temporary. _Better things will come your way soon._ "Yeah, sure."

"And Beca?" She turns her head back in his direction to face him once again. He's smiling at her and says, "Try not to spill it all over my shirt today?"

She smirks at him in return and only says, "I'll try my best."


	2. Chapter 2

_I wasn't going to update until tomorrow, but it was finished, so I thought I'd just put it up now. Let me know what y'all think so far!_

* * *

Beca had to admit, as much as the whole 'assistant' thing sucked, she was getting pretty damn good at running errands all around town if she did say so herself. There were no more coffee spilling incidents, which was great for her in terms of keeping her job, and she was finally, _finally_ starting to get used to the flow of everything around here.

It wasn't _so_ bad, the job, the being an assistant to a President for a global jewelry company thing. It was different, that's for sure. It still wasn't what she wanted, she knew that, but she had to admit, getting that paycheck after her first week felt pretty damn good after two months of unemployment. And she didn't have to worry about missing rent and making the move back to Georgia to live with her dad. A _definite_ plus in her eyes.

The only downfall to this all, was that Jesse thought she was doing _so well_ , that he had started giving her even _more_ responsibilities to take on around the office. Paperwork. Emailing. Talking on the phone to clients and potential buyers. That stuff, she wasn't so great at.

She was trying, she really was, she promised she was giving it her all, but this isn't something she's ever had to deal with before. Sitting behind a soundboard and giving direction to vocalists, creating and visualizing music was what she did. She understands that process. Numbers and business deals, meetings budgets and sales was something she didn't understand all that well.

Which brings her to now. She's currently in Jesse's office, with him trying to explain to her how to correctly fill out the re-order forms for in-house inventory. She really didn't get all the numbers and quantities and product names. _Nothing_ made sense. It was all just scattered and there didn't seem to be any logic to it. Just random numbers and letters that didn't seem to have any purpose.

"I'm never going to get this." Beca buries her head in her hands as she leans against Jesse's desk. It's so frustrating to _not_ understand. She doesn't even know why she cares so much, she can't figure out why she's trying so hard to figure all these things out. A week ago she couldn't wait to get out of this place. But, she really wants to figure all this out. She wants to do well for herself. She wants to be able to provide for herself without having to worry about her dad hovering over her shoulders. She just can't seem to get a grasp on some of these everyday tasks in the office and it's driving her crazy.

"Hey." Jesse's gentle, as always. She doesn't know how he seems to keep such composure when there's always so much going on. He takes his hand to pull her hands away from her face so he's able to look her in the eyes. "You'll get it. These things take time."

"More time for me than everyone else, though."

"If I didn't trust you with this stuff, or didn't think you were capable of it, I wouldn't have started giving you more responsibilities. You're doing fine, Beca. You'll get it, okay? I promise."

"Okay," she sighs, refocusing back on to the order forms in front of them. If Jesse believed in her, she'd try to believe in herself a little more. "So, what do those numbers mean again?

* * *

"I was beginning to think you weren't gonna make time for my sexy ass anymore."

Amy'd been Beca's best friend since she moved out to Los Angeles five years ago. She'd been her _only_ friend for a while, until Chloe pushed her way into her life, refusing to leave. Sure, Amy was a little weird and out there, and sometimes she didn't understand a word Amy was actually saying, but she was a friend, a good friend, and a friend who was always there when she needed her.

"Sorry, Amy," she says, sliding in to the booth across from the Australian at their favorite restaurant in downtown Los Angeles. "I'm just trying to adjust to the new schedule."

"I'm imaging it must be tough to go from sitting on your ass all day, to running around the city doing errands all day."

Beca rolls her eyes at her friend, eyeing the drink menu that was placed in front of her. She sure could use one, it was a hellish couple of weeks, adjusting to a new schedule and finding her footing in a new environment; a cold glass of beer was sure to do the trick, she was sure of that. "I'm not _just_ running errands around town anymore, you know. Okay, yeah, I'm still the one that has to do it if it's needed, _but_ he trusts me with more than that now."

"He trusts _you?_ He must have a bad judge of character."

Beca glares at her Australian friend directly across from her. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying," Amy starts. "You're not the most responsible person I know."

"I'm plenty responsible. I'll have you know, Jesse trusts me with some really important things." Beca leans back in the tan booth, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Is he cute at least?" Beca looks up from her menu. "I just want to make sure my friend has some eye candy to look at during the day."

"He's my boss. I don't think that's really appropriate." Leave it to Amy, Beca thinks. She really should have been able to see this question coming _long_ before she walked into the small restaurant. She was _not_ going to tell Amy that she thought her new boss was attractive. No, Amy would chew that all up and never let her hear the end of it.

"Alright, I'll save you the trouble," she says, smirking and leaning her weight against the tables edge. "I looked him up on Facebook. He's a pretty sexy fella."

"Amy, what the hell!"

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Amy winks at her from her side of the booth suggestively. "Although, there's not much I probably wouldn't do, so."

Beca shakes her head back and forth. "I'm not going to hook up with my boss. That's wrong and unethical."

"Hasn't stopped you before," Amy says, shrugging.

"Luke wasn't my boss," Beca says. "There's a huge difference."

"But he _was_ in a very committed relationship."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, did you not know that Jesse's engaged to be married?"

"Jesse's engaged?" She tries not to sound surprised, but she's pretty sure Amy picked up on the tone of her voice regardless of how hard she tried to hide it. She thinks she hides her feelings pretty well from the average person, but Amy's known her for years now and she never misses a beat. "That's weird. He didn't say anything."

"Is he supposed to tell his new assistant about his love life?"

"No, it's just," she pauses a moment as she tries to figure out what she's trying to say. "It didn't seem like he was involved with anyone, I guess."

"His Facebook page definitely said engaged. Sorry to disappoint you, Bec."

"I'm not disappointed," Beca says quickly. "I'm not. It just brings back some bad memories, is all."

"Do you wanna split a pizza?"

Amy's quick change of subject couldn't have come at a better time. She wasn't upset about Jesse being engaged. No. It's just her past relationship history that's got her on edge. Being the other woman was not something she wanted to do _ever_ again. She didn't even like Jesse like that, so why was the thought of him being engaged bringing up all these memories from her past relationship?

"Sure. Pepperoni?"

* * *

Waking up to an empty house on a Saturday morning was the last thing he expected to find, but Jesse wasn't going to complain. It gave him a good excuse to get up a little earlier than he normally did and get started on some work without hearing his fiancé nagging in his ear how he never did anything _but_ work. He wishes he could work less, too, she just didn't seem to understand that things needed be done and deadlines needed to be met. He was in charge; it was his responsibility to make sure everything actually did get done in time.

He grabs a quick breakfast before setting himself up in his small little home office and opening up his emails. He kind of hates that his parents were so successful with everything in the business. Don't get him wrong, he knows it's great, and he's proud of all they've accomplished, and how lucky he was as a kid to be so fortunate, but now it seems to all fall down on him.

"Jesse?"

 _Well, there goes that_ , he thinks. Maybe he wouldn't be getting as much work done as he thought he was going to get done today. He'd only been working for about an hour when the voice echoes through the halls of their house. Jesse closes his eyes for a brief moment, hoping he just imagined the whole thing, that the house was playing tricks on him. But, it's too good to be true, because Sadie appears in the doorway of his office only seconds later.

"Jesse! Did you not hear me? I called out for you," she says.

"I heard you, Sadie, you have a loud voice." He smiles up at her when he notices the scowl appear on her face only seconds later.

"Anyways," she continues, forgetting quickly enough about the comment. A smile appears on her face before she starts speaking again. "I did a little wedding shopping with your mom this morning."

"Of course you did." Jesse busies himself again with emails. He really doesn't care what she was out buying for the day. "We haven't even set a date, yet, why are you buying things already?"

"One can never be too prepared, Jesse." She's quiet a moment and Jesse wonders if maybe she left the room, but then she continues with, "Well, don't you want to know what we bought?"

"Not really, I'm kind of busy with work right now."

"We're supposed to be planning a wedding, if you remember correctly. Do you not care at all?"

"Sadie, I'm really busy right now. I need to get this stuff done."

"Fine," she huffs, walking out of the room. "I'm meeting Chloe for lunch, anyways."

"Have a great time," he yells back at her. He knows it comes off as harsh, but he can't find it in him to care anymore. He can't find it in him to put on this little charade they've been putting on for years.

Her head peaks back around the doorway only seconds later. "We have dinner reservations with your parents tonight, too. At 7. Be ready for 6:30."

* * *

Jesse's lost track of what he was working on when his office phone beeps, indicating it's Stacie from out front from the specific ringtone he had set for her. He presses to take the call and says, "What's up, Stacie?"

"You're fiancé is here."

He laughs at that. Sadie never came to visit him at work. He honestly couldn't remember one time she'd showed up at his office. He didn't even think there _was_ one. "What?"

"Yeah. Says it's important. Says she has something for you. Should I send her over?"

"Umm, yeah," he stutters. "Send her right in."

He immediately begins trying to clean up his desk a little bit. It's a mess, and Sadie hates messes. She likes everything neat, in order, and organized to perfection. He didn't operate like that. He _couldn't_. He'd love to have everything organized in a certain way, but it just didn't work that way. There was always too much to do, too much going on, too many papers on his desk that needed attention.

He notices her blonde hair when she opens the door slowly. "Well, Sadie, I've gotta say, this is different. And why exactly are you here?"

She doesn't say hello, doesn't even seem interested in being there. He knows she's not, he knows there's more to this than a simple _hello_. The first thing she mutters is, "Who's that out there?"

"That's Beca," he says. She gives him a look and he can tell she still doesn't understand who it is. He knows he told her about Beca, but he also knows she choses to ignore most things he says. "My new assistant."

"Oh," Sadie responds. Her face turns to an expression of distaste. "She's got a lot of…piercings. And…tattoos."

"And?"

"Isn't that a little inappropriate for the office?"

Jesse never liked the attitude his fiancé seemed to pick up after college graduation. She was down to earth when they first started dating, never seemed to care what people dressed like or what they chose to do with their time. He feels like he was with a different woman now. Not the person he met when he was eighteen."It doesn't affect her work, so it's fine with me."

"And the plaid shirt? A little casual for office wear, don't you think?"

"There's no dress code around here, you know that," he says. "Really, though. What brings you here?"

"I brought you some lunch," she says casually, as if this is something that happens on a daily basis. As if it's something that's totally normal for her to do.

"Why?" He can't help but laugh, because really, there has to be more to it than Sadie just trying to be nice.

"I just was dropping by to let you know that I'll be out of town for a little bit." Sadie flips her long blonde hair to the back of her shoulder. "I thought I'd bring you some lunch while I was at it."

"Oh, okay," he chuckles, focusing back on the work in front of him, which was much more important than the conversation he was currently having. "Now, it makes sense. The lunch is a peace offering."

"No, that's not it at all." Her tone is defensive and he can't believe she actually sounds offended by his words. She knew exactly what she was doing, he was sure of it.

"Sadie, yeah, it is. Here's lunch, I'll be taking off for a while, spending your money, using your credit cards. That sort of thing, right?"

" _Our_ money, Jesse. We're engaged to be married. What's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine, right?"

"Sure, Sadie. And how long will you be gone, exactly?"

She shrugs, still standing in front of him, never had bothering to sit down. She hadn't planned on staying. "I don't know. A week? Maybe two. I haven't decided."

"Great. Fantastic. Really. Well, you have fun," he says, picking up the phone. "I have actual work to be done, so you can head on out, if you want."

"Well, since I'm clearly not wanted." Jesse rolls his eyes; typical of her to try to make him look like the bad guy in the conversation. The door closes behind her and the heaviness that surrounded him only moments ago seems to disappear.

* * *

Beca always thought that once the work week was winding down at these 'real' jobs, so would the _amount_ of work. That was always her perception of how these jobs worked. But, no. Not at Swanson Jewelers. Jesse's parents really built an empire with this company, it was kind of incredible to witness it all. There was always fifty things to be done and before you started working on those, another fifty things suddenly had to be accomplished, too. It was insanely hectic, but she thinks she's adjusting well. Jesse seemed to think so, too, which was great.

It took her three weeks, but she finally, _finally,_ learned how to re-order inventory. The numbers and letters and everything else on those order forms _finally_ made some sense to her. She's proud of herself, she didn't think she'd be able to do something like this job ever, but she's doing it and she's doing it well.

She knocks on Jesse's office door softly at 6:07 on a Friday night, three times, the way she always did before entering. She pushes in after hearing the normal response from him, indicating her to make her way in.

"Hey, Bec."

"Hey." She notices Stacie's in the room, too, with him and says, "Hey, Stacie."

"What can I do for you, Miss Mitchell?"

"The inventory forms are all done for you," she says, stepping forward to place the stack of papers on his desk in front of him. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Jesse smilies in her direction and just says, "You've come such a long way in just a few short weeks. You should be proud of yourself, Bec."

"You've never given me any compliments like that and I've been here for two years!" The look on Stacie's face is really quite priceless. Her mouth is gaped open and her arms are crossed against her chest as she eyes Jesse hard from hear seat on the small couch in his office.

"Because you didn't pick things up that quickly, Stacie. In fact, you still have trouble focusing on everyday tasks."

Beca can't help but laugh at how their relationship is; they're so honest with each other and it's kind of refreshing to see that. She'd only seen a small portion of the music industry up close when she had her job at the small little indie label, but even that was cutthroat. No one was honest with each other and everyone was only out for themselves. It was different here. She felt like she was part of a team.

"Bec, you're all set for the week. Thanks for everything."

"Awesome," she says. "I'm gonna head out of here, then."

"I'll be heading out soon, too. Hopefully. Any plans for the weekend?"

"Sleep. Literally. Just sleep. That is all I want to do."

"Alright, well, have a good weekend."

"You, too. And you, too, Stacie," she nods in the tall girls direction.

Beca closes his office door behind her, grabs her bag and car keys off the table, setting off for the elevator down the hall.

* * *

Jesse catches himself gazing in the direction of the door as it shuts behind the petite brunette and he's not surprised Stacie has a comment about it when he notices the little grin on her face.

"You like her."

The statement takes him by surprise. "What was that?"

"Beca," Stacie says, as it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You like her."

"Yeah, I do," he says softly. "She's a good little worker."

"You can say it, Jesse, it's okay. I like her, too," Stacie replies. "She's funny. And a good worker, for once. Try not to screw this one up, okay?"

"Alright, Stacie. You're free to go. Have a good weekend."

"Alright, fine. I can tell when I'm not wanted anymore," she says, pushing herself up off the couch, reaching for the door. "I'll see you Monday, Jesse."

"Bye, Stacie."

Stacie was right. He did like Beca. She was different than most girls he's ever met before. But, he wasn't going to let Stacie in on that little bit of information.

She'd never let him hear the end of it if he did.


	3. Chapter 3

"How much longer do I have to be here?"

Jesse looks up at Beca who's sitting in the chair in front of his wooden desk. Her hands are framing the side of her face, hair falling loosely around her shoulders. She looked miserable. Completely and totally miserable. He can't blame her, really. It's Friday night and she's here at the office with him, finishing up something that couldn't be left until Monday. He'd asked her if she would be willing to stay behind for a few extra hours and help him get everything done, and she was kind enough to accept.

"I'm sorry. I'm hoping soon," he mutters, face buried in a stack of orders from clients. He hated the fall quarter, things were always ten times more busy than the rest of the year. "Thank you for staying, though. I appreciate it."

"Why does this have to be done tonight, exactly?"

"So all these orders that were placed," Jesse says, gesturing with his hands at the stack of papers sitting between them. He can't even tell what was finished and what needed to be done anymore. "Can be on a truck Monday morning to be shipped."

"What's the big deal if they're not on the truck on Monday? What's wrong with Tuesday?"

Jesse's chest falls up and down with a sigh. "Because these companies have asked for them to be shipped by a certain date. It's my responsibility to make sure we actually meet that date."

"What happens if you don't?"

Beca sure asked a lot of questions. He figures it's probably better for her to want to learn than for her to be completely uninterested in what they were doing. "They get really angry at me."

Beca takes a second and just stares at him. "That's it?"

"And then, I could lose their business. I'd rather not do that," he says. "Your five minute break is over."

Beca groans, picks up her pen and says, "This is so boring."

"Hey, look at it this way," he says. "The faster we get this done, the faster we get out of here."

"Jesse, we've been here for two hours. On top of an eight hour work day. There is nothing fast about this."

* * *

"Oh my god, I can't even keep my eyes open." She didn't mind staying behind for an extra hour to help him finish up some work; it's not like she had anything else to be doing. Amy was always busy on Friday's and she preferred to stay by herself anyway. But it's been three hours since everyone else has gone home for the night and she's pretty sure she's close to making the couch in his office her bed for the evening.

"We're almost done, I promise."

She sighs, loud enough to make sure she know he hears her. She keeps trying to focus on the task at hand but the words in front of her are starting to become blurry. "Somehow I doubt that's actually true."

"Really, thirty more minutes. At the most, thirty." He sounds so optimistic. He always sounds so optimistic. Seriously, did this guys really think everything was just sunshine and daisies? All the time? It was kind of irritating.

"Yeah, I still don't believe you." Beca rolls her eyes. "You know, I don't know how you actually work these long days, almost everyday, and still manage to work like a normal person."

He speaks without looking up at her. "I'm used to it by now."

"It's like you _like_ being here or something. Like you'd rather be here than at home." Jesse only shrugs in response and continues typing away on his keyboard. "Okay, I can't do this without some caffeine."

"Okay, go grab yourself a coffee across the street."

Beca pushes herself up off the black chair after his words. "You want anything?"

"Sure. The usual."

"So, caramel latte with extra sugar and whipped cream?" Jesse looks up at that, and well, he's not amused. She grins at him and says,"Is that not right?"

Okay, he's really not amused. "Beca."

"Okay, okay. Fine. Large warm coffee, black."

"Much better. Thank you."

"Alright, I'll be back in a few."

She's just made her way out the door when he shouts to her, "Don't take too long, we still have stuff to finish up here."

"Don't worry," she shouts back at him. "I'll be taking as long as possible."

* * *

"Jesse." She tries to say it quietly the first time. Clearly, he couldn't be in that deep of a sleep, but he doesn't make any movements to acknowledge that he heard her, so she tries again, louder this time. "Jesse!"

His head flies up from the desk, his eyes darting everywhere in the room until they focus on her. "I'm up, I'm up. What's going on?"

Jesse jump start back to reality makes her laugh. He looks so frazzled and he's usually so calm and collected. It's a different look for him, one she hasn't seen yet. "Dude, you're falling asleep on your desk."

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm all good. Let's just keep going." He reaches for the black pen and tries to start back up on all the paperwork set in front go him, but he's so unfocused. She can see it in his face, she can see it in his eyes.

"Jesse, it's 9:37 on a Friday night and you're falling asleep."

"We're almost done." His argument is weakened when his whole sentence is stretched out by a yawn.

She pushes herself against the back of the seat, crossing her arms. "You said that two hours ago."

"Yeah, but it's true this time," he says.

No, it wasn't. That's what she wanted to tell him. There was no way they were going to finish all this work tonight. It was near impossible if they wanted to remain somewhat focused and alert for the duration of it. "You had _coffee_ and you're _still_ falling asleep at your desk!"

"Coffee doesn't do much for me anymore to help keep me awake. My body is too used to having it everyday. For nights just like this."

She watches him as his eyes slowly close and he opens them quickly to try to hide the action, as if to prove he's totally fine to be working, but she sees it. He's not fine to be working anymore, she knows he's not. Beca stands up from her chair and slides in under the desk, hidden away from view. Just the way Jesse likes it when it's not being used. "Stop working. Put down the pen. We're going out."

"What?"

"It's late. You're exhausted and I'm fucking starving. We're going out."

Jesse shakes his head back and forth while scribbling more words on the papers set on the desk. "No, I've gotta get this done."

"Jesse, I'll come in early Monday to help you finish, but I'm done for the night. _You're_ done for the night. Let's go get some food."

He seems to contemplate it for a few moments, but he reluctantly agrees. She's glad, she was planning on leaving him by himself if he was going to be that stubborn about it. "Fine. Alright. We'll go."

He follows her out of his office, grabbing his coat while Beca grabbed her bag from her drawer, walking down the clean hallway to the elevator. When the doors close behind them and Beca reaches for the ground floor button she says, "You're buying."

* * *

She brings him to a bar that's close by to her apartment, one she's become very familiar with over her short five years in Los Angeles. The drinks are good, the food's decent, and it was never filled with too many people. Just the way she liked it.

They order a few beers and a few appetizers to split, but once the waitress leaves it feels a little weird. For the past month, they'd only been co-workers. All their conversations were strictly work related. This is different, they're out as _friends_. Well, she thinks they are, she isn't sure how he's viewing it all, but it seems like they're not here to discuss work anymore. This is uncharted territory for them and she's not exactly sure what they're supposed to talk about.

She's not good at this stuff, starting conversations, talking about herself and getting personal. But, she's glad he seems to be comfortable enough to strike up a conversation, because he's quick to say, "So, I heard you used to work at a record label."

"Umm, yeah. A small one. But it shut down when it ran out of money."

"What did you do there exactly?" It's odd to her because he genuinely sounds interested. She's used to her parents shutting down her dreams and telling her to reevaluate her life. Find a real job, settle down, that sort of thing. They didn't care about her music dreams, she doesn't think they ever will.

"Well," she starts. It's weird, she's not used to opening up to people so quickly, but he makes it feel easy. She doesn't feel scared to talk about this with him. "I started doing some pretty shitty tasks around the office. Phone calls and emails and really, really boring things. But I worked my way up and got to do a little bit of _actual_ producing."

"Producing?"

"Yeah, that's what I want to do. I wanna make music."

"Wow. That's…that's really cool, actually," he says. "You're going to have to show me some of your work sometime."

Beca smiles at that. Her own dad never even asked to hear her music, but this guy she's been working for, for only three weeks seems to have more interest in it than him. "Yeah, okay."

"How the hell did you go from music to working for me at a jewelry company?"

"Chloe's nothing but persistent." Beca pushes the beer bottle to her lips to tag a swig of the brown liquid.

Jesse laughs. "That she is."

"No, it's just…I'd been out of work for two months, and Chloe mentioned the job and talked some sense into me and told me I should give it a try. So I did." Jesse only nods in response, but Beca doesn't want to give him time to reply. She hates talking about herself. "So, what about you?"

His chest rumbles lightly as he laughs. "Actually, I wanna work with music, too."

That takes her by surprise. He works with jewelry, for a very, very well known company. As the President. What on Earth did that have to do with _music_? "Really?"

"Well, _wanted_ to work with music, I guess you should say. I wanted to score movies."

"Movies? Really?"

"What do you have against movies?"

"They're just…so predictable. I can't ever seem to make it through a full one without becoming bored with it all."

Jesse's head shakes back and forth. "I can't believe you."

She shrugs and says, "Sorry."

"I can't believe you don't like movies."

"Why _wanted_?" She doesn't know if she should ask the question, doesn't know if it's crossing a line, but she decides to go for it, regardless. "What happened to those dreams?"

"I don't know," he says. "I went to USC with every intention of studying film, but my parents had different plans. They thought it'd be best if I took over the family business once I graduated, give my dad the chance to have an early retirement. So, I took up business instead, took over the company when I graduated, and…here we are."

"Why…how come you did that?"

"I didn't want to disappoint them."

"But if it's not what you want…"

He interrupts her before she has a chance to finish what she wants to say. "I just want them to be proud of me. That's all I want. They've given me everything I have."

Beca doesn't know what to say to that. She's spent years ignoring everything her parents told her. She never cared about making them happy; she only cared about making _herself_ happy. She didn't know what he must have gone through, she had no idea what it felt like to give up on your hopes and dreams in order to make someone other than yourself happy.

"My dad doesn't agree with the music thing. He's never supported it. He probably never will." It's weird how easily the words seem to flow out of her mouth. She sucks at opening up to people. she keeps everything all bottled up and doesn't share anything about herself. It's easier that way, it always has been. It took her a good year to let Amy in and allow her to be her friend.

"What about your mom?"

"They're divorced. I stayed behind with her when my dad left for Georgia. She couldn't care less about me, I'm pretty sure."

Jesse laughs. "Guess both our parents won't be winning that 'Parent of the Year' award, huh?"

"Guess not," she laughs along with him.

The waiter interrupts them then, bringing them their plate of fries and chicken wings, asking if they needed anything else before leaving them to enjoy their food. They both reach for the ketchup, their hands bumping into each other when they try to grip the bottle.

"Sorry." Beca lets him take the bottle first before she fills her plate up with a small amount of the red condiment.

Jesse's about to bite into the teriyaki glazed chicken wing in his hand as he asks, "Did you go to college?"

"No." Beca digs into the fries in the basket in front of her. "Much to my parents dismay, I moved here right after high school."

"Why's that?"

"I didn't see a college education as a necessary component to producing music." Beca drops the wing she's eating on her small plate, reaching for her beer. "Sorry. You don't care about any of this."

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested."

"I usually don't share things about myself so easily. I think it's the beer." Beca gulps down as much as she can in one breath. She's shared enough about herself, now. She's got this weird anxious feeling that she's all too familiar with and she'd rather see that fade away. "So, the wings are good right?"

* * *

The silence isn't uncomfortable between them as they eat, but he finds himself wanting to learn about her. He _wants_ to talk to her and get to know her They've only been here an hour and he's incredibly fascinated with her. Her ambition and her dreams and the individuality she possesses that she seems to value so much.

"Do you live by yourself?"

"Yeah, just me." He watches as makes progress on their plate of fries and realizes she likes the fries better than the wings; she's been eating more of those than the sweet glazed chicken. "I don't think I'd be a great roommate. I need the alone time. I _like_ the alone time. How about you? Do you live alone?"

"No, actually," he laughs but it's only to himself. "I live with my fiancée. I'm engaged."

"Right," she says. "Yeah, I did know about that."

"Chloe?"

"Sure, lets go with that."

He gets the feeling Chloe wasn't the one who spilled the beans, but he doesn't mention it. There are more important things to worry about. "Yeah, we've been together for around six years now."

"Wow. That's a really long time."

"Yeah, it's a long time," he says. "You probably saw her when she was in the office the other day. Blonde, fancy designer clothes."

"Oh, _her_. Yeah, she didn't look like she liked me all that much."

"She doesn't like many people, don't take it personally," he says. "I don't know. She never used to be like that. She was really go-with-the-flow when I started dating her. For years, really, she was like that. Didn't care about things like designer clothes and fancy cities like she seems to now. But then I took over the company and everything seemed to change."

"How long have you been engaged?"

"About three years now. Since I graduated. I proposed on the night we graduated," he says.

"That's a long engagement." She sounds genuinely surprised.

"Tell me about it." Jesse tips the beer back against his lips. He always feels like liquor is a necessary component to any conversation about Sadie. "Enough about me. How about you? Anyone in your life?"

"No. Just me and my music."

He senses a hesitation in her words, but he doesn't press it. They're just getting to know each other as friends and not as co-workers, it wasn't the time to press the issue. Plus, Beca seemed to have stopped being so willing to talk about herself. She kept changing the topic and he could take a hint. She didn't want to talk about her personal life anymore and that was okay with him. If she wasn't ready, she wasn't ready. "That's great. It probably keeps you focused on your dreams. No distractions."

"That's a great spin on it all, thanks."

He grins at her, going back for another sip of the Bud Light, but it's empty. "You want another beer?"

"Yes. Please. Oh, dear god, yes."

* * *

The two of them make their way out of the small bar around midnight. Jesse walks out of the building with an odd feeling. It feels like a dinner, a first dinner nonetheless, with a co-worker, should have been awkward, but it wasn't. It wasn't at all. In fact, he actually had a pretty decent time and he's grateful that she pulled him out of the office when she did, he definitely had worked himself to his utmost limit.

The valet sets off to retrieve both of their vehicles, from wherever they had been parked. Some garage or some random parking lot, he assumed. He wasn't really sure how it all worked, he just wanted his car back by the end of the night.

"Thanks for treating, by the way." Beca crosses her arms across her chest, leaning her back against the brick building behind them.

He turns to face her. "You made it very clear that I was buying."

"Still, I didn't think you'd actually _listen_ to me." She laughs, and it's infectious to him.

"You stayed four and a half hours after hours to help me with order forms. The least I could do was buy you a meal and a few beers."

There's an abnormal chill in the air for an October night in Los Angeles. He's only glad he had on his work jacket to break some of the wind. He watches on as Beca kicks a few rocks with her feet. He finds her so incredibly fascinating. He found himself gripping on to her words throughout the evening, wanting her to share more about herself, wanting to learn more about her life.

The way she loved music, and the way she went after it with everything she had was captivating to him. He only wishes he had the same drive and passion she did. The same determination to do whatever it took to make herself happy, despite what others thought of her.

She was so…intriguing. He'd only known her for about three weeks now, but he feels like he got a glimpse at the real Beca Mitchell tonight and he was completely mesmerized by her.

It hits him then. It hits him out of nowhere. Like someone just shook him awake from a deep nights sleep, like he knew it all along but he was only made aware of it in this very moment.

He was attracted to Beca Mitchell.

"You're looking at me really funny." Beca laughs, and it's only then that he's aware that she's still standing right besides him. She must have noticed the look on his face. He can't say he's surprised, the confusion he's feeling must be predominantly written across his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Jesse just shakes his head back and forth, trying to pull himself back to the present and shake the thoughts from his mind. "I'm fine."

* * *

 _So...yeah._

 _Let me know what you thought?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Apologies for taking a bit with this. I do try to update at least once a week, but life got in the way. But, I'm back now! And I hope to get back on track again with this. This is probably not the most exciting chapter - I'm really not a fan of it, but I hope y'all enjoy it. I've also got a good chunk of chapter five already written, so I'll try to get that up as soon as I can!_

* * *

Jesse was a wreck.

A complete and total wreck.

It was only 10am on a Monday morning and it felt like he'd already been at work for three days straight. Okay, yes he did come in a little early to finish up what was left on Friday, but he knew that wasn't why he felt like he'd already worked half the week in a short four hour timespan.

He couldn't sleep at all last night. Actually, he's pretty sure he didn't sleep at all for the past three straight days. He laid awake for hours on end, staring at his ceiling, watching the fan spin in endless circles, trying to make sense of everything that was running through his mind.

He couldn't be attracted to Beca. He couldn't be. No. It was impossible. He was _engaged._ To be _married_. He had been with Sadie for six years now. She was definitely the one he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with, right? He couldn't be attracted to another woman. That would make him a terrible person, wouldn't it?

So why did he feel so lost and confused? Why couldn't he make sense of anything? Why couldn't he get Beca out of his head? She'd preoccupied his thoughts for the past seventy-two hours. All he could think about was Beca. _Beca, Beca, Beca_. And to top it off, as if things couldn't even be worse than the situation he'd already put himself in, he was her _boss._ He's pretty sure he would be crossing about one thousand lines if anything were to happen with Beca. It already feels like he had crossed a line and nothing had even happened yet.

Beca's soft knocking on his door (he knows it's her, he can always tell when it's her - she knocks the same way every single time) forces him to shake off all the confusing thoughts picking at his brain as he tells her to come in.

"What's up, Beca?"

"Are you okay?" She looks confused, which is understandable to him. His desk is a disaster, more so then usual, and he knows his face can show how insanely tired he is. He tries his hardest to always come in fully rested and remain composed and on top it for his work days. It was his responsibly to lead his team and if he wasn't up to par, no one else would be either. "You look like shit."

"I'm fine." Jesse tries to stretch his eyes open as far as he can, hoping it will shake off some of the fatigue, but he's doubtful it would work. "I just didn't sleep very well last night."

"Oh. Okay." She sounds convinced enough. Everyone had an unfits night sleep every once in a while, right? "Um, some guy is on the phone for you. I couldn't really understand him, but he asked for you. Line two."

"Great. Thanks. Actually, I'm glad you came in, I wanted to talk to you about something."

The worry appears on her face almost instantly, bracing the worst for what could come next out of his mouth. "Listen, if this is about us going out on Friday night…"

"No, no," he says. "Nothing like that. I had a good time. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay. good." Beca lets out a sigh of relief. "I did, too, actually. Have a good time, that is."

"There's this jewelry show, there's several throughout the year actually, and there's one at the end of this week. A bunch of different companies go and show their products, a bunch of different buyers come and take a look to see if they're interested in purchasing anything. That sort of thing."

"Okay," she says. "And?"

"We'll be leaving for Texas on Wednesday to go together."

"Texas? Why Texas?"

"I don't pick the locations, Beca." Jesse rubs his hand against his forehead, he just wants to wash away some of the tiredness, but of course it doesn't do the trick. Nothing seems to be doing the trick. He gets that Texas probably doesn't sound like the most exciting place to her, but he's exhausted and he doesn't have the energy to argue with her over the location of the convention. "I'm just told where they are and show up if I feel like it."

"Well, yeah, but they couldn't have picked somewhere a little more exciting? Texas? Really?"

"Really, really. We'll be flying into Dallas."

"Why are you taking _me_? Shouldn't Stacie being going? Isn't she more qualified for this type of thing than I am?"

Jesse sighs, placing the pen in his hand on the desk he's hunched over. "Stacie needs to stay here to make sure a few other things get done. You're coming with."

Beca crosses her arms against her chest, leaning her weight on her left foot. "I still think it should be somewhere other than Texas."

"It's in Texas and our flights are booked and we're leaving Wednesday afternoon," he says looking up and staring straight at her.

"And how long are we staying in Dallas for?"

"We fly back on Friday morning," he says. She must take it as the end of their conversation because she turns herself around, ready to leave. "Hey, Beca? Be ready to leave for the airport by 12."

* * *

He meets his friend Benji for lunch that day. He meets him just downstairs at the little soup and sandwich spot.

(He couldn't travel too far from the office, incase chaos ensues and he's needed upstairs for something right away.)

He usually doesn't even think about stepping out of the office, there's too much to be done and he doesn't have time to waste. It's better to just skip his lunch break and work right through it. But he's not with it today. He's not getting much work done anyways, his mind is preoccupied with other things and he thinks it might be best for him to take an hour away from the office and clear his head. Maybe talk with his friend and maybe, hopefully, gain some clarity.

It's mostly small talk at first, how work was going for the both of them, the weather and how it was entirely still too hot for the fall season, what was going on in the news. Benji, joking about how Jesse actually let himself leave his office for a meal, since he rarely does.

"So, how's Sadie doing?"

"It's funny you ask that. "Jesse can't help but laugh at the irony of it all, but Benji looks perplexed at his response, and the small laugh that escapes his lips, so he says, "Honestly, I have no idea."

"What do you mean you have no idea?" Benji takes a bit from his sandwich. "How do you not know?"

"Haven't seen her in over a week, now."

Benji places his plastic cup filled with lemonade on the table carefully after taking a small sip. "Where is she?"

Jesse looks at his barely touched sandwich and cup of soup in front of him. He's really not that hungry. "I have no idea. She didn't tell me. She just took off somewhere."

"She didn't tell you where?"

"I didn't ask," he shrugs.

"Over a week?"

"Yeah. Close to two."

"That can't be easy on your relationship though," he says quietly. "I mean, you must miss her."

It's honestly not something he even had thought about. Did he miss Sadie? He didn't miss the constant arguing, the constant nagging about the newest fashion trends or shoes she just bought. Or had to have absolutely right away. But, did he miss _her_? Did he miss her presence in their home?

"I don't know, I guess I do, yeah."

Benji only nods in response. "How's that new assistant you hired?"

"Beca? Beca's great. She's awesome."

"Did you finally find an assistant you're going to be able to keep for longer than a month?"

"I think so," he says. "As long as she wants the job, at least. She's got some big dreams, though. I doubt she'll be around for that long."

"Maybe just try to hold on to her until the holiday season is over?"

"Yeah," Jesse laughs. He finds the whole conversation ironic, really. His whole idea for this lunch was to talk about things _other_ than Beca. Help him get his mind off everything that'd been circling in his mind all weekend. Funnily enough, that's still exactly what they ended up talking about. It wasn't helping. "That would be nice."

* * *

"So, what exactly is there to do in Texas?"

They haven't even taken off yet. Actually, they hadn't even left the gate yet, and he can already tell this three hour flight is probably going to feel like one of the longest flights he's ever been on. "How much free time do you think we're going to be having?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"We're working. There's not going to be time to sight-see."

She pauses a moment, and he thinks, _he hopes_ , the questionnaire might already be finished. But, it's not because a beat later she asks, "Have you ever been?"

"Yes." The plane starts moving then in reverse, ready to make its way to the runway.

"Do you like it?"

He shrugs in response before replying with, "Yeah, Dallas is cool."

"I feel like it's not." Beca turns her head towards the window, watching the scenery outside slowly start to change with their speed.

Jesse shakes his head and leans his head back against his seat, closing his eyes. This was definitely going to be a long flight.

* * *

"So, Dallas, is like, actually a city?"

They've just made it out of the airport in their rental car, on their way to the hotel they'll be staying in downtown, just getting their first view of the Dallas skyline. He's not surprised she has a comment, he was expecting it, really. Beca seems to have a comment about everything, he's learned, and she doesn't shy away from saying it.

"Yes."

"Like…there's buildings." He watches her pull her sunglasses up from her face out of the corner of his eye, as if that will help her get a better view of things. He's pretty sure things still look exactly the same.

"Yes. What did you expect?"

Beca shrugs. "Trees. Grass. Nothing."

Jesse shakes his head, his eyes in her direction as she pulls her sunglasses back over her eyes. "I told you, Dallas was a fun city."

"Well, you haven't convinced me of that just yet."

* * *

"So, what do we do?"

"We're doing it." They'd just set up their table at the convention center in their hotel lobby, and he already knows Beca's not going to like how the days events are going to go. If she's bored already, she's going to be more bored once a few hours pass.

"You mean, we just sit here all day, behind this shitty display and do nothing?"

"Well, we don't do nothing. We answer questions about the products if any of the buyers have any," Jesse tries offering to her.

Bec groans, leaning back against her chair and resting her feet against the top of the table. "That sounds so dull."

Jesse gives her a look at her actions, but she doesn't seem to notice. "It can be."

"Do people usually ask questions?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Why did you drag me to this shit, then?"

"To have someone here to help me."

She scoffs. "That seems selfish."

"There's always someone here with me to help. Look around, Beca," he says motioning to the convention room at their hotel. "Do you see anyone here working alone?"

"No."

"Exactly. Feet off the display table. Try to look like you're somewhat interested, please."

* * *

"This is really one of the most boring things I've ever done in my life."

Jesse rolls his eyes at the tone she takes with him. "This is work. It's not supposed to be exciting."

"Yeah, but I feel like it could be a little bit exciting at least."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Countless people walk by their table, watching and gazing, looking and admiring the newest fall trends the company had come out with before moving on to the next display. No one really talks, which is typical, Jesse expected that. No buyer wants to come across to eager, because then they have no bargaining chip with pricing when they actually place an order. He gets that, he grew up in this business with his parents. He knew how it worked.

Which is why, when a man, probably around his parents age, stops by their booth and begins asking questions, he's a little confused.

"I like these watches."

It's a simple statement, but it's the most anyones said to him all day. Besides Beca, that is. "Thank you. It's our newest line for teens and tweens. They can change the faceplate, to anything they want. The faceplates, they're supposed to mimic emoji faces."

"It's clever," the man says. "I'm Kevin."

Kevin reaches his hand across the table to shake Jesse's hand. "I'm Jesse. This is Beca."

"Nice to meet you both," he says, lightly shaking Beca's hand as well.

Beca's silent and Jesse's surprised, for one. It's the quietest she's been all trip so far.

"Our designers figured that kids love their phones and emojis. We thought it would be something fun they could play with. Change their face for the day, show what mood their in when they want. That sort of thing."

"Yeah," he nods. Kevin picks up a watch and changes the faceplate on one of the blue watchbands himself. "It's really quite clever."

"If you're interested, I could get together an order form for you right now."

"I don't know. I'm not sure if it's what the company is looking for to sell this season."

"Why wouldn't they?" Beca asks this, speaking up for the first time since Kevin showed up. "It's a watch that's made to look like an emoji. Kids will love this."

"I'm still not really sure."

Well, there goes that. Jesse thought for sure he was going to gain a sale from this convention, but these guys flip flop all the time. He's pretty sure he won't be getting that order from Kevin, now.

"What's not to be sure of? These are going to be flying off the shelves. There's already so much interest back at the office in these. I wouldn't miss out, Kevin."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah, totally." Jesse's gotta say, he's impressed. He didn't expect Beca to take over the role of saleswoman, but he's happy she did. "I would get that order in as soon as you can. Wouldn't want us to sell out and you miss your opportunity to sell these this holiday season."

"Well," Kevin starts softly. "I'm not in charge of placing the order. I don't the authority to do that with you today. But, I can talk with my boss when I get back and give you a call as soon as I get the okay."

"That would be great, Kevin. Thank you," Beca says, smirk etched on her face. She's proud of herself, he can tell by the way she's carrying herself.

"I'll be in touch." Kevin walks away slowly from the booth, moving on to the next one that's just across from them.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"No need to thank me, dude," Beca perches her feet up on the table again, arms crossed against her chest as she leans back against the plastic chair.

"Seriously, I think you might have just got me a sale."

"That was the idea, yes."

Jesse shakes his head back and forth. "Okay, you got me a sale, this doesn't mean you get to look unprofessional now. Feet off the table."

Beca groans but she takes her feet off the table anyways, her smirk unable to leave her face.

* * *

He really couldn't believe it. He knew taking Beca was going to be the best decision for him for the jewelry show. He was a little uncertain for the duration of it, because, well, it's _Beca_. And if Jesse's learned anything about Beca it's that she's snarky and sarcastic and highly enjoys giving you a hard time. But he stands by his decision because she clearly worked some magic for him.

He couldn't believe that Kevin had actually called him like he said he would. And not even just called, he placed a _huge_ order for the upcoming Christmas shopping season. Leave it to Beca to actually pull through for him in a big way.

He uses his phone to ask her to come into his office for a moment. Sure, she's right outside the door and that might be lazy but it was much more convenient to just use the phone.

She pops her head in the door, looking slightly skeptical. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say thank you."

"Okay," she says. She sounds confused and he can't blame her, he's being incredibly vague. Okay, so maybe he wants to have a little fun with her first and make her sweat a little bit. "For what, exactly?"

"For coming with me this weekend."

"Okay, dude, you're going to have to get to the point because this sounds like you're buttering me up only to fire me."

Jesse laughs. "No, nothing like that. Quite the opposite in fact."

"Okay," she says, dragging the one word sentence out slowly.

"Kevin called me. Just now. I just got off the phone with him."

"He did?"

"Yes, in fact, Kevin seemed very interested in our product and thought it would have a huge success throughout his stores this season."

"Well, I mean, I did tell him that it was only the hottest new accessory on the market for teenagers, basically."

"You did. And I wanted to say thank you for that. Because he just placed a huge order with us for those teen watches."

"He did?"

"He did."

Beca grins. "Well, what can I say. I've got the magic touch."

"Alright, Beca. Thank you. Now, back to work."

"You're no fun," she says, turning her body around to head back to her desk.

She turns around but he calls back for her. "Hey, Beca?"

She whips around quick, her hair landing against her shoulders. "Yeah?"

"Really, though. Thank you."

Beca smiles over her shoulder. "You're welcome."


	5. Chapter 5

Sadie sitting on their grey couch, feet propped up on the dark wooden coffee table that sits in the center of their living room, sipping on a glass of white wine from her favorite wine glass is not what Jesse expects to find out the other side of his home's door, but it's the sight he's greeted with.

Jesse's been used to coming home from work for the past few weeks to an empty house, silence, and the peace of mind that comes along with it, so this was a bit of a surprise.

"You're home."

"Yes," she says, taking a sip of the white liquid in her glass before continuing. "I'm back."

Jesse takes his shoes off by the door, placing them on the black mat that he puts them on every single day. "Okay, well, I have some emails I need to check on, so I'll be in my office for a while."

"I've been in Paris."

"I didn't ask," he says while hanging his coat in the closet by their front door.

"It was Fashion Week."

He walks further into the room. She has the TV on softly, playing one of those reality shows she loves so much. "Okay."

"I bought these shoes. Do you like them?"

"Well, I guess I don't need to ask how much they were. Considering I've already seen the bill in my credit card statement." She only shrugs. "And, considering the prices I was seeing, I'm guessing the shoes aren't the only thing you bought."

"No, everything is in our room." Jesse rolls his eyes. "I can go get the bags to show you everything if you want."

He starts making his way across the room in the direction of his small little workspace. "You know I don't."

"I know. You're never interested in anything I do anymore."

That stops Jesse in his path, but only for a moment before continuing on his way down the hall. He calls back softly, "I'll be in my office."

* * *

"Beca, I've gotta say it, I'm really proud of you."

Phone calls with her dad are always so dulling. They exhaust her. She feels like she's just come back from a three mile run when she's talking to him, but in reality, she's usually done nothing to exert such extraneous amounts of energy. She's usually always doing something wrong in his eyes and she's beyond tired of hearing about all the things he sees wrong with her life choices. She just wants him to accept her for who she is. She didn't think that was too much to ask of your own father.

But, then his words register with her and she thinks _did he just say what she thought he said_?

"What did you just say?"

"I'm proud of you, Bec. I really am."

"You're proud of me? She asks, gripping on the words she's so desperately wanted to her out of her own fathers mouth for years.

"I really am."

"What exactly have I done for you to actually tell me something like that?"

"You've kept this job a whole month. A real, honest, hard-working job."

Ah, there we go. Real jobs. Her choice of music isn't a stable career option, it'll land her in a dumpster. She's heard it all before. But she still finds herself clinging to her dad's words. She feels like he's never been proud of her before; he's certainly never told her was, and all she ever wanted was for him to accept her for who she was and what she wanted to do.

"Dad, I don't plan on keeping this job forever. It's just temporary until something with music comes along for me. I still…I want to make music, Dad."

"I know, I know," he says quickly. "I figured that you did. But look, Bec. Look how stable something like this is. The paycheck is stable and your employment it stable. You don't have to worry about the unpredictability of the entertainment industry."

Beca feels a sudden headache coming on with the direction of their conversation. "But it's still not what I want to do, Dad."

"Just think about it, would you? Think about the type of life you could build for yourself with a career like this."

"Sure, dad." She only says this to deflect the conversation, but she still knows it won't be the last time she hears of it.

"I am proud of you, though, Bec. I honestly didn't think you were going to stick it out this long."

"Well, that's a backhanded compliment if I've ever heard one."

She hears her dad sigh through the other end of the phone. "I just want what's best for you, Bec. That's all."

"I'm sure you do, but it'd be really nice if you could want what I want for myself and support it," she says. She's so frustrated. She thought this conversation was actually going to go in a good direction at first, but he's only proved that he's still trying to determine her future for her. "You know what, my lunch break's over. I've gotta go."

* * *

It's 5:30pm on a Thursday night and Beca's pretty certain she's forgetting to do something. There's no way she's finished up with all her work by this time on a _Thursday_. She's forgetting something; she has to be.

But, no. She's double checked and triple checked and everything she's been told to do today is completely finished. She's actually getting out of here before 6pm for once and it feels so good to know she's going to have a little extra free time to herself tonight.

She's thinking she might mix some music, although she sees that as a low possibility, considering she hasn't mixed in months. Not since she was let go from the label. Not since they made her believe that maybe everything she was doing was actually a huge waste of time. She hasn't been inspired to actually sit in from of her computer and mix anything since then. She just keeps waiting for some inspiration to strike. It'll happen soon, she tells herself. Although, she's beginning to wonder if that's actually true.

Beca cleans her desk a little, getting herself prepared for tomorrow morning so everything wasn't completely a mess for her to walk into the next day. She grabs her back out of the bottom drawer, leaving it and her keys on the desk for a moment. She figures she should tell Jesse she's heading out for the night.

She knocks her usual three soft raps against the wood, but he doesn't beckon her to come in right away like he always does. Which is odd. He's always telling her to come in as soon as her hands leaves the door after the first knock. She walks in anyways, just to make sure he's not dead or anything. She feels like she should do that, at least.

But what she walks into is not what she expects to find at all.

Jesse, lounging on his couch with a blanket and some popcorn, watching some movie on the medium sized television he had in his office. She didn't know which movie; she doesn't know many movies that well. Or any movie for that matter. So that's what he kept the TV in his office for, she thinks. To be able to watch movies at work. What a dork.

He spots her right away, the light from outside spilling into the darkness of his office. He had all the blinds on the windows closed, the only light source coming from the television screen set in front of him. Jesse pauses the movie right away at the sight of her in the doorway. "Beca. Hey, what's up?"

"Uhh." She isn't really sure what to say. Does she acknowledge that he's cocooned himself in his office to watch movies? Or does she ignore that completely? "I was..I was going to head out for the night. I somehow managed to finish everything early for once."

"Okay, great. Have a good night."

She's not sure if she should say it, but she's gotta ask. The whole scene in front of her is concerning. Is it normal for someone to hide out in his office to watch movies? She feels like it's not. Considering he has a home and he must have a television there to watch things on. "Is everything okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…is this normal?" She gestures to the room in front of her, the scene that she's currently seeing. "For big wigs in business to watch movies in their office at the end of their work day?"

Jesse just laughs and she isn't sure if she's missing something in their conversation. "Maybe it is. I don't know. I just didn't feel like going home yet."

"Really? Because when I'm done here I can't wait to get the hell out of here and get home."

"Sadie's back in town again."

"Oh," she says. She's confused. Wouldn't he want to get home, then? "I would have thought you would have wanted to be home with her. She was gone a while, wasn't she?"

"I just didn't really feel like going home to another argument. That's all that we seem to be capable of doing together anymore. I'm tired of fighting."

"I'm…I'm sorry." She doesn't know what else to say to that. She kind of got the feeling the night they went out for dinner that things weren't great with his relationship, but she didn't think it was at the point of hiding out in your office to avoid the other person. She just hopes her apology is enough.

He seems to hesitate for a moment, looking at the screen and then looking back at her before he says, "You should join me."

"What? No. No, I hate movies, you know that. I told you I didn't like movies."

"I think I could change your mind."

She crosses her arms against her chest, leaning back against the wall. "That sounds like a challenge."

Jesse pats the cushion next to him, inviting her to join him. What the hell, she thinks. He's not going to convince her movies are this wonderful thing tonight, anyway. "Alright, fine. I guess."

She shuts his door first, then makes her way over to the tan couch and sits on the cushion beside him.

"Want any popcorn?" He pushes the plastic turquoise bowl in front of her that's filled with the stuff. Jesse really thought of everything when it came to movie night, apparently. "It's got loads of butter and salt. Really tasty. I would take it as an insult if you didn't try any."

She takes a few kernels and pops them into her mouth. Alright, maybe it was pretty damn good popcorn but she wasn't going to let him know that. "It's alright."

"You don't have to lie, Beca," he says. "It's better then alright and you know it."

"Okay, it's good. It's not that bad." She turns her head over in the direction of the black television screen, trying to make sense of the movie that's playing. Space ships. Stars. Galaxies. She's pretty sure she knows what it is, but it's not like she's ever taken the time to watch it. "So, what are we watching?"

"Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back."

"Fantastic."

"For one, it's the longest thing I had in here. More time for me to avoid going home. Two? It's one of the best scored soundtracks of all time."

"Well, that is fascinating."

"Right?" He says, so very excitedly. She kind of feels bad for trying to put a damper on it all, but only a little bit. "The music just transports you to another world."

"I still feel like I'm in Los Angeles."

"Don't worry," he grins at her. "You won't by the end of the movie."

"How long do you think I'm planning on staying, exactly?"

"As long as it takes to change your mind."

Beca's not really sure what she just signed herself up for by agreeing to stay and watch a little bit of this movie, but she's never seen anyone so excited about movies before. Really, he's _that_ excited over everything.

"So, this is episode five out of the Star Wars movies. There's six in total. Really, though, this was technically the second film that was released back in 1980. So, you might be a little confused, seeing as there's one that comes before it."

"You know," she speaks softly, turning to face him. "I don't actually plan on watching anymore of these, so it's alright. I really don't mind being confused."

He turns his head to the left of him to look at her and shakes his head back and forth in disbelief. "So much to learn, still."

Beca rolls her eyes before refocusing them back on the screen. "What is that thing? And why is it so loud?"

"That's Chewbacca. He's a Wookiee."

"A what?"

"A Wookiee." The way he replies is in a way that implies that she should definitely know what he's talking about, but, really, she hasn't got a clue. "So, that's Han Solo. And that's Princess Leia."

"Sure."

"This scene is iconic."

She mimics a gasp at his continued excitement. "Is it now?"

He doesn't respond to her, but she hears him mouthing along to the words that are coming out of the speakers. She turns to look at him; he's got the dialogue memorized and she's sad to say she's not surprised.

" _I love you_ ," me mouths along with Princess Leia. And then she sees his mouth move along again with Han Solo's, " _I know_."

She turns her head back to the screen when she notices how captivated he was by the world in front of him. He turns to face her then, she can feel his eyes on her as they shift over. She turns to face him, too, and suddenly there's a heavy air that seems to surround them. Uncomfortable, and awkward. She turns away for a moment, but turns her head back in his direction and suddenly his lips are on hers and his hands gripping at the back of her head and he's pushing her back against the couch and _she can't think straight._ The only thing she can think about is the feel of his lips moving against her own.

But then she feels him tangle his fingers in her hair and she feels her mind snap awake and she finally can start coming to her senses.

She sees Luke first. Luke, who led her on for a whole year, who made her believe she was truly the only person in the world for him, until she found out that he was actually _married_. To another woman. She's sees Jesse's fiancé flash in her head a beat later - her walking past her small desk when she walked into Jesse's office that one day not long ago.

This feels all too familiar. She can't let this happen again. She can't let herself be the other woman again. She _refuses_ to be the other woman again. Not when she knew what that felt like already. She wouldn't allow herself to go back to a situation she's already been in. She's made that mistake once already, she'd be dammed if she let it happen again.

Beca pulls herself away from him, pushing up on his shoulders just gently, eyes closed and refusing to open to look at him.

"I…I need to go." She sits herself up quickly, pushing him up off of her, rushing to the door and reaching out for the doorknob. She barely can process what just happened. Jesse didn't just kiss her, right? She's imagining everything. This is all just a really bad dream.

"Beca."

She hears him call out for her, but she ignores it, focused on only one thing: getting out of that building. She's halfway out the door, and before she closes it behind her, she softly says "I have to go."

* * *

Beca's pretty sure she's never moved so quickly in her life before. The only thing she was trying to stay focused on right now was getting the hell out of that building as quickly as she could possibly manage.

This could not be happening. This could _not_ be happening.

Her mind was racing in five hundred different directions. Did Jesse just really kiss her? And did she really kiss him _back_? Her thoughts were so scattered and she could barely even focus on putting one foot in front of the other as she walked out of the double doors of the forty story building.

It felt like history was repeating itself all over again. All those bad memories, all those painful times were putting themselves in the front and center of her mind. She didn't know how to make everything stop before things spun themselves out of control again.

She rushes down the block to the parking garage her car stays parked in during her work days. She locks herself inside her car quickly, putting the key in the ignition to start her vehicle right away. She reaches for her phone inside her bag, frazzled when she can't find it right away, finding it buried at the very bottom, then dialing Amy's number on the keypad as her fingers shake uncontrollably.

She hears the receiving end of the phone pick up on the other end and doesn't give her friend any time to even mutter a simple hello. "Amy?"

"Beca?" She's breathing unsteadily and her heart is racing. Amy must pick up on it because she says, "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I fucked up. I fucked up big time."

* * *

 _Dun dun dun._

 _Let me know whatcha think?_


	6. Chapter 6

"You mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

Beca pushes past the girl who just kindly opened the door for her, rushing straight towards the couch only feet away from the doorway, kicking her shoes off before rolling herself onto the sofa, lying flat on her back and staring up at the white popcorn ceiling.

"Beca?"

Beca pauses from her spot on her friends couch, taking a deep breath before replying with: "I need a drink."

"Beca, what's going on?"

"I need a drink," she repeats, fast and demanding, closing her eyes in the process and turning the room to darkness. "Then I'll tell you."

She hears Amy's feet start to move across the old, creaky hardwood floor that filled her entire apartment, and that's when she allows herself to finally let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. Jesse _kissed_ her and she still couldn't seem to get a grasp on the fact that it actually happened. That she was putting herself in the position to go down this very familiar road once again. To involve herself with a man who was already in a very committed relationship.

"Alright," Amy says, reappearing in the room with the cold beer bottle in her hand, transferring it to Beca's left one when she opens her eyes slightly. "That's a beer for you. Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on that's got you so riled up?"

She sits herself up, making room for her friend and encouraging her to sit beside her on the white sofa. She pauses a moment, but finally works up the courage to tell Amy what she needs to tell her. "Jesse kissed me."

"Oh, was it not very good?" Amy asks, and Beca looks indignantly at her friend for the response she's getting, but, really, it's _Amy_ and Beca shouldn't be surprised by it. "Is that why you're upset?"

"I kissed him back."

"Oh, Beca." Amy can joke, but Amy knows when to turn it off, too. Beca's grateful that she seems to understand this is one of those times she needs her to be serious. "Please, tell me you didn't."

Beca buries her face in the palm of her hands, bringing her knees up to her chest. "I told you I fucked up!"

"Okay, okay. You need to calm down. We're not going to get anywhere if you're like this," she says, moving towards her friend and sitting beside her on her own sofa. "Breathe. Deep breath."

Beca listens and does as Amy instructs. She doesn't feel much better, she doesn't feel much calmer, but she feels like she can actually make it through the conversation she knows they're about to have.

"Tell me what happened."

"I don't know. I was about to leave for the night. He was watching a movie in his office. He asked me to stay. I did. He kissed me. I ran. Here I am," Beca says. "That about sums it up, I think."

"He's engaged, Beca," Amy says softly, gently resting her hand against Beca's shoulder.

She shrugs Amy's hand off her body forcefully. "I know he's engaged!"

"I'm just trying to help you. Don't turn this into another Luke."

"Don't you think I'm aware of the current situation? I'm very well aware of the similarities."

"Beca," Amy tries quietly.

"I don't wanna go down this road again," Beca says, looking down at her legs crossed against the soft fabric of the furniture. "I can't do this again."

"You're not going to do it again," Amy replies. "We're not going to let it happen again."

Beca stays concentrated on her hands in her lap for a moment before looking up at her blonde friend and asking: "Why is this happening again?"

"Nothing even really happened yet though, did it?" Amy asks, inching a little bit closer to the brunette on her couch. "It was only a kiss."

"I guess so," she shrugs.

"It doesn't have to go past that kiss," Amy says calmly. "It can stay at that."

Amy's words catch her attention. "You think?"

"Maybe it was just a fluke, heat of the moment type thing for him," Amy shrugs from beside her.

"Yeah, maybe," she mumbles under her breath. "Maybe that was it."

Amy looks directly at her, quiet for a moment, not saying anything, just observing. But then the accusation comes with a blunt, "You like him."

That remark takes her by surprise. "What?"

"Jesse. You like him."

"What? No. That's…that's insane," she laughs lightly. "That's crazy. You're talking crazy."

"Beca, I've been your friend for how many years now? I know you, and you like him. I can see it in your face. That's why you're so worked up over this, isn't it?"

"Maybe," she mumbles barely above a whisper.

"Beca, you knew going into this that he was engaged. I told you back when you started this job to be careful!"

"I know, okay! I know. I don't even know what it is about him. He's really fucking weird. He's _such_ a nerd. But, he's just…really sweet, I guess." She can't help that her lips start to curve upwards into a small smile.

"Oh my god," Amy vocalizes. "You've gotta snap out of this fast."

"I know, alright. I know," she sighs, running her hands through her hair and pushing it away from her face. "Maybe I just have a thing for already committed men, maybe that's my issue."

"Well, we need to make sure it's _not_ your thing," she says bluntly. "Have you thought about what you're going to say to him tomorrow when you see him?"

Beca's eyes widen in response, the fact that she definitely had work tomorrow and definitely couldn't avoid seeing him throughout the workday was sinking in. "No. Oh my god, what am I supposed to say? I can't talk to him about this! No, forget that. I have the perfect solution. I'm just going to call in sick. Yeah, I'll do that. Perfect way to avoid everything."

"Beca, c'mon. Be real. You can't call in sick and avoid it. That will just make everything worse."

"Why not?"

"Because if you ignore it tomorrow, you'll have to face it on Monday," Amy reasons. "And we both know if you ignore this all weekend you'll work yourself up into a panic attack."

"Then what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say?"

"Just..ignore it. You've gotta just pretend it never happened. Move on now before things get out of control."

"Yeah." She tips the bottle upwards against her lips letting the cool brown liquid drip down her throat. "I can do that."

Amy looks surprised when she asks: "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I've got this shit under control."

* * *

She's on her way to the office the next morning, sitting in the usual bumper to bumper Los Angeles traffic that never seems to dissipate, when Chloe's name flashes across her black iPhone sitting in her cupholders between the drivers and passenger seats of her small four door.

At first, the panic starts to sink in at the possibility of Chloe knowing about the kiss. She'll probably lecture her on the choice of her actions, that what she's doing is wrong, those sorts of things. She wouldn't ask about her feelings on the matter - if she was okay, what provoked something like that taking place last night. No, she was concerned where _she_ fit into the matter.

That's how Chloe was. It's probably how she'd always be, too.

She doesn't want to pick it up, not at the prospect of the possibility of Chloe ringing her out over making a move on a man who's engaged, a man who's engaged to one of her very close friends, in fact, too.

But she does, and Chloe responds to her small hello with a, "Beca! I haven't heard from you in forever!"

"Yeah, it's weird how you get me a full time job and I suddenly lose like all of my free time."

She can hear Chloe's excitement through the other side of the phone. "How _is_ work? How is the new job?"

Beca scoffs. "It's been interesting, I'll say that."

"Oh good!" Beca hears Chloe clap three times on her end and that causes her to roll her eyes. "So, that means you like it, right?"

"No," she deadpans. "It doesn't mean that."

"Oh, c'mon. It can't be that bad can it?"

"I don't know," Beca says. "It's pretty boring."

"At least you're not living with your dad, right?"

"I guess," she shrugs, pushing her foot to the gas pedal as the traffic in front of her started to move forward the slightest amount.

"You don't need to thank me," Chloe says and Beca can hear the proud tone she takes to her statement.

"I wasn't planning on it."

There's a beat before Chloe continues. "How's Jesse?"

 _Shit,_ Beca thinks. Maybe she does know, maybe she's only waited to bring it up until now. "He's fine. He's my boss."

"Is he good to you? He speaks so highly of you, Beca."

That takes her by surprise. "Does he?"

"He thinks you've been a great addition to the team. He really likes you, Beca."

"Good to know," she mutters quietly. Chloe didn't know about the kiss. That topic would have been brought up immediately and it was clear she had no idea what had taken place last night. She intended to keep it that way, too. There was no reason for her to know. It wasn't going to be a problem for her and Jesse. She was going to make sure of that. "Good to know."

* * *

She's not sure how she did it, but she's managed to avoid seeing him for the duration of her work day.

So far.

She knows she can't avoid it forever, he is her boss after all, she's going to have to see him at some point today she's pretty sure, she just _couldn't_ deal with it right away. She didn't want to deal with it _all_. Period. Running away from her problems and pushing away her own personal feelings were two of her best attributes. She wasn't planning on quitting those two traits today.

She'd only been at the office for three hours though, so she doubts she'll be able to avoid it for another six.

Beca's in the middle of typing an email, lost in her own thoughts and too busy typing away on the black keys to notice her surroundings when she hears Stacie say, "Are you alright today?"

That brings her out of her daze at the computer screen.

She looks up at the tall, dark haired woman standing in front of her desk. She didn't even hear her walk up next to her. She's either really out of it, or Stacie is _incredibly_ stealthy. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

Stacie eyes her carefully. Stacie doesn't believe her words, that much she can see in her facial expression. The lingering gaze, the questioning eyes trained in on her every move. "You seem out of it, like your mind's elsewhere or something. You're not focused today."

"I'm fine." Beca tries to laugh it off. "I'm just tired. Didn't sleep well last night. I'm okay, I promise."

Stacie crosses her arms against her chest, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right. "Jesse's been weird, too."

 _Play it cool, Beca,_ she tells her self. "What do you mean?"

"He seems just as out of it as you are today. Kind spacey. Clearly thinking about something else." Stacie keeps her eyes focused in on Beca, and Beca has to turn away, try and pretend her focus is solely on the computer screen in front of her, the papers on her desk, the pen in her hand, _anything_ else besides Stacie's gaze. "If I didn't know any better I would think…"

Her fingers stop moving against the keyboard suddenly. Stacie couldn't possibly know that anything happened. Could she? "Think what?"

"Oh, nothing," she says, moving her hand to the doorknob of Jesse's office. But it's coy. And it gives Beca an uneasy feeling in her stomach. "Nothing at all."

* * *

It's only when the clock strikes 7 that Jesse decides it's probably best for him and his sanity to get out of the office for the night. Working himself into oblivion wasn't going to get things done faster; it'd only hinge their progress in the long run.

He gathers his belongings: his car keys, his phone, his wallet, and then he puts on his light sweater he always brings in with him in the morning - nights were beginning to get cool in the city as the year winded down with each passing day.

He steps out of his office and finds the last thing he expected to find - Beca slumped over her desk, papers scattered around her, pen still in hand, fast asleep.

He's surprised for two reasons. One - Beca always got out of the office as fast as she could on a daily basis. And two - it was such a different side of the girl he'd come to know. She looked so vulnerable, so completely at ease, the only movements coming from the rise and fall of the breaths she was taking.

He shuts the door behind him, thinking the sound it makes behind him will wake her, but she doesn't even stir. His feet guide him behind her desk, taking a position in standing right next to her, hovering his hand above her shoulder.

He presses down slightly against her arm, shaking slightly and muttering, "Beca." But, nothing. He shakes her arm a little more, adding a little bit more pressure, raising his voice when he says, "Beca."

She moves then, making quick movements and sitting back up in her chair, pulling herself back into reality. "What? Oh," she says quickly, noticing him beside her. "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's okay," he says, moving himself to a position that's closer to her desk. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She moves quickly behind her desk, shutting down the computer, trying to place her papers in a neat and organized fashion. "Just tired."

"If you need a day to catch up with sleep or anything…don't feel like you can't take a day. I'm okay with that."

"It's not that. I don't think it is, at least. I just have a lot on my mind."

He doesn't know if he should even mention it. They've avoided the matter all day, but he feels like they'll be walking on eggshells around each other until he gets it off his chest. "So, about that kiss."

"It's okay. I get it. It was a heat of the moment type thing for you, right?

"I just…I wanted to apologize. I crossed a line and it shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," she says. "So, we can pretend like it never happened now?"

"Yes, we can pretend like it never happened." He sits down on the edge of her desk, smiling down at her small, petite frame still tidying up her workspace. Her phone buzzes then, and as soon as she reads the message, she drops the phone roughly against the hard desk. Her expression changes immediately, worrying him that something might be wrong. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's just fantastic." Her tone's bitter and he knows everything _isn't_ as fantastic as she's going to try to make it out to be.

"No, it's not."

Beca rolls her eyes, slamming the top drawer on the right side of her desk shut. "Okay, no, it's not."

"You can tell me if you want to," he suggests. "Or, don't if you don't want to. I'm a great listener, though."

"It's just my dad," she mumbles looking down at her hands resting atop the desk. "He's coming to town for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It might not be," she says. "It's when he adds things like, 'Since you won't make an effort to come see us, we'll come to you,' to the texts that piss me off."

"Us?"

"My step-mom. Shelia." Jesse's pretty sure her eyes couldn't have rolled further back into her head.

"Not a fan?"

"Not really, no."

She sighs heavily, taking her left hand and rubbing her forehead. He reaches across the table and rests his hand against the top of her right one, her eyes immediately darting to their adjoined hands in front of them.

"That doesn't feel like we're pretending the kiss never happened," she quips.

He pulls his hand back at that quickly, muttering a soft, "You're right. Sorry."

The kiss wasn't the problem for Jesse. No, not at all. The kiss was just a physicality. He was in much deeper than that, they both were. He felt something with Beca and there was no way she wasn't feeling it, too. He knew it was more than just a kiss for the both of them.

This situation wasn't just going to go away by pretending that kiss never happened.

 _That_ was the problem.

* * *

 _Yes, I know this took me longer than a week. I'm sorry. Things are getting more complex and I want to make sure I get things right. I also changed the cover art for this - thanks to Casey, who's awesome for making that for me._


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello to anyone who's still interested in reading this! I know it's been six months since I've updated, I'm sorry. Health wise I wasn't so great for a while and I could not find my way back to this story. I tried here and there to get back into it and it always felt like something was off. Nothing I wrote felt right. This feels right. Crossing my fingers the next chapter doesn't take me another six months to write._

 _Also, a Happy Easter to anyone out there who celebrates._

* * *

Truthfully, Jesse isn't all that surprised when Beca seems to completely close herself up after the recent events that have transpired. He can't really blame her, he knows that. He knows the only person he can actually blame for the change in atmosphere around the office is himself. He just doesn't particularly _like_ the change, he misses talking to her and laughing with her and just _being_ with her. The only time she speaks to him is on work matters as of late and he just wishes it could go back to the way it was, before he messed it all up.

He just needs to figure out how to do that.

It's the rare moment when the two of them are on their way out of the office one night at the same time, and uncomfortable silence filling the air that the two of them seemed to be so desperately trying to avoid, that he sees his opportunity to break the ice.

"Hey," he starts, walking into the silver doored elevator, pressing the button to the ground floor as the door shuts in front of the pair of them. It's not until she glances over at him that he takes it as an approval to continue his thought. "We're cool, right?"

He watches her as he stands the right of her, her facial expression turning into a small look of confusion. "I guess, yeah."

"So, we're…" he continues on as the elevator slowly transcends downward. He doesn't know what to say or how to say it without scaring her away. He's already done that once and he doesn't want to push her even farther away. "We're friends, right?"

"Uhh." He watches her eyes shift around the elevator uncomfortably, looking for any type of diversion for her to focus on _besides_ the conversation he's so obviously forced upon her. He's done it again, he's pushed her further away. But then, the next words out of her mouth surprise him even more. "Yeah, we're friends."

He figures his shot is thin of her agreeing to his next proposal, but he asks her anyways. "How would you feel about doing something tonight? With me?"

Her eyes widen in response and turn towards his direction after the question leaves his lips. "Like a date?"

"No. Like…as friends. Like…" He hates how nervous he is around her. His thoughts are muddled and his words don't come to him easily. "…just two friends hanging out and getting to know each other better."

"Umm." She's hesitant, he can tell by the way she tries to divert her gaze to the ground. And why wouldn't she be after the stunt he pulled last week? She had every right to decline his invitation. "Okay, I guess?"

The way she answers only prompts him to laugh lightly beside her. Her face scrunches up in confusion, in clear bewilderment as to why her words have caused him to laugh. "That sounded more like a question than an answer."

"No." She shakes her head back and forth quickly, her brown hair moving gently against her shoulders with her movements. "No, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. You just took me by surprise. Okay, yeah, sure. Let's do something."

"We could go to my place," he suggests lightly, both their feet walking down the Los Angeles sidewalk to the parking garage just a short walk down the street from their building. "Order a pizza or something."

She stops completely in her path and he doesn't even notice until he's ten steps ahead of her. He stops with her when he notices her actions, moving a few feet in reverse to catch up with her again. "Bec? What's wrong?"

"What about Sadie?"

"Sadie's in New York." He doesn't really know how he missed the dots with that one. Of course she'd be skeptical about going back to his place if Sadie was hanging around. He can see the wheels turning in her head and how that's exactly where her thought process is. "I could come to your apartment if you're more comfortable with that."

She seems to calm a little at this, much more at ease with going to a place she's familiar with and comfortable with. "Yeah. My apartment is fine."

"Yeah?" He's been surprised by her responses all evening, but he's even more surprised she's still on board with his whole 'getting together' idea. She nods so slightly besides him, starting to move her feet again towards her car parked just a few spots down from his. "I'll bring a pizza and some drinks."

"Okay."

"Alright, then. I'll see you in a little bit."

"Wait." She stops ever so slightly before opening her car door. "Don't you need my address?"

"I know your address, Bec." He laughs lightly, opening the door to his black four door. "It's in the employee database."

* * *

Beca finds herself opening up her apartment door a short time later, settling herself into her home, skipping her normal routine of showering directly after she gets off work due to the visitor she'd have arriving momentarily.

The first thing she notices when she lets herself into her downtown Los Angeles apartment is how various pieces of her wardrobe are messily spread out around her living room and the kitchen sink overflowing with dirty dishes. It quickly sends the brunette into a frenzy to make her place look as presentable as possible, which frazzles her even more to realize she cares so much as to what Jesse thinks of her place, but she quickly rationalizes with herself that it's because he's her boss and she doesn't want him to think she's as messy about her work as she is about her apartment.

She quickly rushes to her kitchen, moving quickly to shove everything left in her sink into the dishwasher and picks up all her sweaters and jeans and other random items of clothing into her room. She grabs a vanilla scented candle that Chloe had bought her one year for Christmas, or her birthday - she honestly can't remember - and sets a flame to it to make everything smell a little better.

Satisfied with the quick work she's done to make her place look somewhat presentable, she sits on the end of her couch, antsy and unrested, wondering why the hell she's so nervous about Jesse's arrival.

Beca reaches for her phone resting on the coffee table, sending a quick text to Amy in hopes to calm all her anxieties. _'Please tell me inviting Jesse over to my apartment tonight wasn't a mistake."_

The tri-tone ringtone comes almost instantly. ' _You'll be fine if you don't sleep with him'_

Beca tosses her phone back to it's original location on the coffee table, realizing her friend isn't going to be any help in this situation. She knows she shouldn't be surprised, it's Amy and Amy makes jokes about everything, but seriously, she doesn't know what mess she's getting herself into with this guy and why she can't seem to stay away.

Jesse's light knocking on her door shake her out of her thoughts only moments later and she hates the way her nerves seem to increase even further upon his arrival. She greets him at the door, his slim body waiting on the opposite side of the doorframe, holding up a six-pack of Budlight in one hand and a large pizza in the other.

He walks in, Beca closing the door behind him gently and latching the lock shut. "I come bearing gifts."

"Thank god, I could use one of those."

* * *

She doesn't know what to say to him, doesn't know what to talk to him about and she feels like she's walking on eggshells in _her own apartment._ It's very clear to her that Jesse doesn't know where to start with a conversation either, as he hasn't said a word since they sat down at her kitchen island and began eating the pepperoni pizza he brought along with him. And that was over twenty minutes ago, because she's just finished her second slice and they've still managed to get nowhere in their conversation.

"This is stupid," she announces suddenly, dropping the crust of her slice of piece on the white plate set before her. Jesse looks up at her remark, his brown eyes widening in surprise as he looks at her.

"What? Do you not like the pizza?"

"No, Jesse," she sighs, a clear sign of frustration. "It's not the pizza."

He reaches his left hand towards the pizza box to place a fresh, new slice onto his own plate. "Then what is it?"

"Us!" She motions her hands back and forth between their two bodies. "We've barely said a word to each other since you've got here. It's ridiculous! We should be able to talk like two adults without it being _this_ awkward."

"You're right," he nods along in agreement with the statement Beca's just made. "That's my fault. I shouldn't have kissed you and made things weird between us. I'm sorry."

"Will you shut up about the kiss? Forget about it. Just stop being so weird and stop sitting there like you've just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar and talk to me like a normal person. We were friends before, we can still be friends now."

Jesse opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted by the sound of his cellphone ringing against the marble countertop. She watches him carefully as he looks at the lock screen on his black device that was ringing with the classic iPhone ringtone. He sighs upon his glance at whatever appeared on his screen, promptly declining whatever call had just came in as all sounds from the device come to a halt.

He must notice her questioning look, because he just says, "Sadie."

She nods in silence as he confirms her suspicions. "Right."

"I'm betting it's just to tell me about a new outfit she just bought. Or a pair of shoes or whatever else she can spend my money on," he says, reaching his hand out the beer bottle in front of him and taking a swig. "Not something I feel like dealing with right now."

Beca isn't sure how to reply to him. 'I'm sorry,' feels wrong, since she doesn't seem to really know anything about their story, but blowing it off like it's nothing doesn't really feel right either.

"Sorry, you don't care about any of that."

She takes a bit of the pepperoni pizza slice that's in front of her, chewing slowly and quietly among the silence that's seem to overcome the two of them. "So, what's the deal with you and Sadie anyway?"

Jesse's face indicates that he doesn't completely understand her question. "What do you mean?"

"You're engaged to be married but," Beca slowly starts her next train of thought. She wishes she never even asked moments before about his relationship state, but to be honest, she was curious. Everyone she's known who's been engaged to be married, couldn't get enough of each other, but it felt like the opposite with them. "Since I've know you, it seems like she's spent more time away in a different country than she has with you."

"I don't know," he sighs, and she can see how the energy in his body seem to deflate at the mention of his soon-to-be wife. "We've been together so long and it just feels like we've become two completely different people. At least, it feels like she's become a totally different person than the girl I fell in love with in college."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure," he starts. "My parents were always the best of friends with her parents. They always used to talk about the two of us getting married and I always shrugged it off, until we ended up at the same college and I started to see her differently. She was artsy and mellow and a free spirit. She even volunteered at the animal shelter every weekend."

He doesn't seem annoyed with her, so Beca decides to press a little further. "So, what went wrong?"

"Everything was fine after we got engaged for a while. But then…then I took over the company and started bringing in a decent amount of money. And then her sole focus became the newest pair of shoes at the mall or this fancy new designers clothing line."

"It sounds to me like she's after your parents fortune." The glare Jesse shoots in her direction screams out ' _not helping._ ' "What? I'm just saying!"

"It just feels like we're on two totally different paths now."

"Why would you stay with someone if it feels like you're moving in different direction?" She tries to make her statement sound as careful and genuine as she can. She doesn't mean to ask such a personal question, but she cares about Jesse. He's her friend. She doesn't want him to be unhappy.

"I've been with her for six years and that's a really long time. I put a lot of effort into this relationship, and so did she for that matter." Jesse pauses a moment before continuing. "It seems kind of silly to throw it all away. It would be kind of wasteful."

"But if you're not happy…"

"I know," he says, cutting her thought process off before she can even finish her sentence. "I just don't feel like I should give up that easily."

Jesse's statement feels kind of final, so she stops pushing. She probably shouldn't have pushed to begin with, but for someone who's so focused on herself and making herself happy, she can't even fathom being in Jesse's position and doing things because he wants to make _other_ people happy. It's a concept she's not entirely familiar with.

"You should show me your music."

Jesse's comment that breaks their moment of silence takes her by surprise. "What?"

"I told you before that I wanted to see your music. Their empty plates sit on the table between them. "Now seems like a good a time as any if you ask me."

"Yeah, but you don't care about that. Trust me, I'm not very good." She reaches for her beer resting before her, finishing the bottle off with a final swig.

"Weren't you working at a label? You've gotta be good. They don't just hire anybody."

"I don't know."

His brown eyes widen and he turns his lip down into a frown. _Damn you, Jesse, for pulling out the 'puppy dog' face,_ she thinks. "Please?"

"Fine." A smile on his face erupts from her change of heart and Beca excuses herself from the kitchen momentarily, heading in the direction of her bedroom. She comes back into the dining room with a shiny silver MacBook Pro in her arms, along with a pair of Beats headphones in their black zip-up package. "I don't have much that I've done recently, I haven't been mixing much. But this is something from like six months ago or so."

She opens her laptop on the table in front of her, handing Jesse her pair of black headphones to place over his ears. She hits play, anxious for his feedback. She watches him anxiously as he listens to the music _she's_ made, that she's spent so much of her time on. His head lifts up moments after the songs started, catching her eyes and with his and sending her the sincerest of smiles.

"Bec, this is really good," Jesse says softly after taking the headphones off and laying them beside her computer gently. "You're really talented."

"Thanks," she sheepishly smiles at him, unsure how else to respond. She sucks at accepting compliments.

"Why haven't you been mixing?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, sinking back into the chair as far as she can. "I've kind of lost all my inspiration lately."

"Well, you better find it. You have way too much talent to let it go to waste."


	8. Chapter 8

_I know, I know, this is taking me forever to update all the time. Life keeps getting in the way and I keep losing my focus and place. I am really excited to write the next chapter, though, so I'm hoping that motivates me to do it a little quicker than… close to 3 months, this time. (Better than six!) I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!_

 _(Only did a quick read through to check for spelling/grammar, so if you notice anything, I'm sorry! It's just me being lazy.)_

* * *

"Beca?"

She shoots awake as soon as he's said only the first syllable of her name, wide-eyed and frenzied. She'd been sleeping - head resting against her desk, body hunched over the wooden piece of furniture, arms sprawled out on either side of her, her black ball point pen still resting in her grip.

"Sorry," she says instantly once she sees Jesse hovering above her sleeping form, rushing to pick up various papers in front of her, trying to piece which document was which in the mess she'd created against the dark wooden desk. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Beca. Bec, it's fine," he responds gently. Jesse only hopes his three words will bring her enough calm to stop the look of panic in her eyes. "You're on your lunch break anyway."

She looks like a deer in the headlights at his mention of lunch, launching herself out of her chair. "Right. Lunch. I need to go get something to eat."

"Wait, before you head off." He hauls her movements. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Beca's face seems to suddenly go pale at his words. She nervously asks him, "What?"

"Wanna grab a bite to eat and go catch a movie tomorrow night?"

Her face immediately falls in relief, and he's positive she was thinking of something far more cumbersome than dinner and a movie. But then, her face falls almost just a quickly as the relief has flooded over her, and it scrunches up into a blatant look of dismay and he knows what her answer is going to be before she even starts speaking. "I can't tomorrow, my dad's flying in from Atlanta and I have to pick him up at the airport."

Jesse feels his shoulders fall against his side in disappointment, but he can't say anything else to her besides, "No worries. We'll find another time."

His eyebrows rise up at her next words. "How about tonight?

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm not busy." she shrugs. "Unless you are?"

Jesse shakes his head from left to right. "No, I don't have anything planned."

"Sadie's still out of town?"

He shrugs. "I'm not even sure if she's off with her friends, or visiting her family back East."

"You haven't heard from her?"

"Not since," he pauses a moment to think. "Last week sometime."

"Is she coming back to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with you?"

"Honestly, I don't know." He doesn't want to bore her with talk about Sadie, he doesn't particularly want to talk about her himself, so he moves forward with their conversation. "We'll take off from here together when we get off?"

"Yeah, that works." Her eyes find his, still sitting behind her desk, carefully watching him stand in front of his office door. She looks like she's waiting for him to say something else, but he can't particularly figure out what that is until she asks the question herself. "Can I go get lunch now?"

Jesse just laughs at her tone of voice, blunt and forward. "Yeah, Beca, go have lunch."

Beca makes her way down the hall towards the break room, no doubt to heat up something in the microwave to eat quickly before returning to work. He finds his eyes following her movements as she makes her way down the brightly lit hallway.

Stacie's voice breaks his focus on Beca walking down the brightly lit hallway. "Eyes stuck on something in particular there, Mr. Swanson?"

"Stacie," he jumps in place. "I forgot you were in my office."

"Seems like you were more focused on something else," Stacie nods in the direction Beca has just disappeared from. "Or should I say _someone_ else?"

"It'd be particularly helpful if you didn't say anything."

"You know these things don't fly past me, Jesse," she nudges him against his shoulder. "I notice everything."

Jesse turns on his heel and steps back into his office and Stacie is quick to follow him right back in the direction she came. "It's one of your unfortunate qualities."

"Oh, please. You love it. That's why you hired me."

"Sure, maybe applied to working matters it's helpful. Not so much when it's being applied to my personal life."

"So, you…and Beca?"

Nope, he couldn't deal with this right now. No matter how good Stacie's intentions might be. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"Yeah," she says softly. "Just be careful, Jesse."

* * *

"You know, when I said you could pick the movie," Jesse says, slurping the remaining amount of blue raspberry ICEE from the straw in his cup. "I didn't think you'd pick something so insanely disturbing."

"Welcome to my brain."

"You're not allowed to chose the movie we go see next time."

"Next time?" She asks, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye. "So, that means there'll be a next time?"

"Seriously though," Jesse stops mid-sentence, quick to change the subject, crossing the street to get to their two parked cars just a short distance away. "Why did you chose that one?"

"I hate movies, Jess. You knew that when you told me I could choose." He did know it, he thought it was a risk just asking her to go in the first place to catch a film, but she had agreed. He thought he was just doing the nice thing by telling her she could watch whichever one she felt like." Did you see that part though where the guy had that chainsaw and…"

"Beca, please. I'm already feeling a little bit queasy."

The laugh that erupts out of her tiny body is infectious. Bright and cheerful and _happy_. He finds himself thinking that her laugh is something he wants to hear _all the time_. It makes him forget about the horrors of the movie they just watched. It makes him forget about all the stress of his job that seems to be constantly looming over him. It makes him forget about everything going on in his personal life with Sadie.

Everything was about the sound of her laugh in that moment.

How her eyes seemed to light up, more full and vibrant. How her cheekbones were more prominent against her face. How her lips seemed to curve upright in just the slightest motion.

"Dude, you okay?"

He shakes his head a little, bringing himself back to the present. She must have stopped laughing a bit ago, the sound was just still echoing inside his head, him trying to hold on to its cheerful sound. She must have noticed the dazed expression on his face, he can only assume there _was_ one when he noticed the way she was staring at him.

"Fine, just fine," he says firmly. "No more slashers, though, okay?"

He's certain her eyes couldn't roll back further into her head, but he's only happy she seems to be unaware of the momentary lapse he had just there.

He has got to be more careful around this girl.

/

She doesn't bother parking the car at the airport.

She knows she should, that her dad will expect her to park and meet him at baggage claim, but she doesn't see the point, so she just pulls into the pick-up lane outside the terminal and drives around about four times before she sees him and Shelia making their way out of the clear automatic doors.

Her dad slides in on the passengers side, Shelia making herself comfortable in the back seats. She doesn't say anything, she really isn't sure what she _should_ say. Her relationship with her father has been frayed for quite some time, and she isn't sure how to approach most things with him. Silence seems like the best option, she can't say anything wrong that way, so she just let's the two of them close their doors before heading towards the exit from the airport.

It isn't until she's merged on to the highway that her dad finally says, "Well, if you're not going to say anything."

"Hi, dad."

She's only been with him for all of five minutes and she can already feel it's going to be a _long_ weekend.

/

"What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too." She beat him into the office that morning, which was a rare thing. Actually, it had been the first time that had happened, but she isn't totally surprised by her desire to get up and get out of her apartment early. She didn't particularly like having guests and if she was being honest with herself, work was an extremely welcome distraction from her life right now.

Jesse tries again much to her dismay. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

Beca finally looks up at him then, straight-eyed and expressionless. "I work here."

"Don't be a smartass," he grins down at her blank face, her blue eyes staring up at him. "You know I told you, you could have taken a few days off to spend with your dad."

The response is instantaneous. "Pass."

"Oh, please. C'mon, he can't be that bad."

Her eyes widen and her eyebrows raise against her face as she starts writing with the black ball point pen set in her left hand. She doesn't want to look at him. She knows his eyes are going to be bright and full of hope, and she's not sure her relationship with her father is beyond the point of hope at this point. "You don't know my father."

"You could have taken him out sightseeing," Jesse suggests. "I bet he would have loved that."

"He can figure out where things are for himself," Beca's shoulders fall up and down.

"Okay, I get it. I understand the whole 'parents not fully understanding you' thing, I do," she looks up from her desk then. She wasn't paying much attention to what in front of her anyways, but his words caught her attention. "But, just give him a chance this weekend? He's your dad and he wants to have a relationship with you."

It takes her a moment to dissect what he's said said before responding quietly with, "No promises, but….okay."

/

It seems as if she finally did it.

She made it through a long weekend with her father and Shelia, without much of any disagreements. She even took them out to the Santa Monica Pier the night before and she'd even go as far to say she had a decent time with them.

Thanksgiving dinner went by without much of hitch that evening, they didn't have a traditional meal, considering it was just the three of them, but she did order in some Chinese food from the small shop down the block from her apartment complex. She was tidying up in her kitchen and putting leftovers away in her refrigerator when things started to go south quickly.

Just when she thought they had made a decent amount of progress.

It starts when her dad calls out, "Hey, Bec," while making his way across her apartment towards her. "I was looking through job postings online, and saw this posting for a customer service representative."

That stops her from continuing to put the leftover lo mein noodles into the blue tupperware container in front of her. She turns her body around to face him directly. "What?"

"Sure, it might sound a little boring right now, but it says there's huge room for growth within the company." Her dad holds his phone out in front of her, no doubt displaying the job he's mentioning. "You're starting pay is really great, too. I think it's something you should consider applying for."

"No, dad. No." Beca's attention shifts back to the leftover boxes of Chinese food in front of her.

He sits on the barstool at Beca's kitchen island. "C'mon, Bec. At least consider it."

"I don't want to be in customer service, dad." She places the last few tupperware containers of leftovers into her refrigerator, closing the door quietly and turning to face her dad once more. "You know I want to make music."

"I know, but, Bec, that isn't stable. There isn't enough job security in that type of work."

She can't stop the angry tone in her voice that seems to start slipping out. "There can be plenty of job security if you're good enough."

"Bec," he says softly.

She pauses. She looks him directly in the eyes when all of a sudden it hits her. She realizes now why he's been so hesitant about her pursing this career all along. "You _don't_ think I'm good enough."

"I didn't say that. You're putting words into my mouth. I just want…"

She scoffs, making her way to her bedroom, grabbing her purse and car keys. "Yeah, but you implied it."

"Beca," he tries again.

"You know what? I'm gonna head out for a bit."

"Beca!"

She's already halfway out her front door when she yells back, "Don't wait up for me," just as she slams the door shut behind her.

/

A soft knocking on his door is what stirs him awake.

It's nearing midnight, the room basked in complete darkness except for the movie playing on his wide screened television in his living room, a lightly glowing moving picture. He's watching _The Goonies_ , one of his all time favorite movies. Or, well, he was watching _The Goonies_ , because he seems to have dozed off somewhere in the middle, because the group of friends have seemed to have already discovered One Eyed Willie's pirate ship, and the last thing he remembered watching was everyone jumping into the hole beneath the fireplace.

Jesse's almost certain he imagined the knocking, or dreamed it at least, because Sadie was off in Europe, he wasn't expecting any guests, no one ever visited his home and certainly not this late, but then, just softly in the distance, he hears it again.

A gentle three, _light_ , knocks on his front door.

 _It couldn't be,_ he thinks to himself, pulling himself off the sofa and making his way to his front door. Jesse swings his front door open, his front porch lights illuminating the figure responsible for the late night disturbance. Beca only grins when his face finally meets hers, holding up a bottle of wine in her left hand.

"Mind some company?"


	9. Chapter 9

_Hope y'all don't mind long chapters…._

* * *

"How exactly did you know where I live?"

He lets her walk in the entryway and she passes by him briskly, the cool air disappearing from the outdoors as he closes the door behind the two of their figures. "I have access to all employee information. You gave it to me."

He leads Beca down the small hallway in the front of his home, the narrow walkway dimly lit by a singular lamp near the stairs. He brings her into his living room, offers her a seat on the sofa he'd been comfortable on for hours that night and says, "Yeah, I trust you with too much."

"It's because I'm extremely reliable." Beca sits right beside him, placing the wine bottle on the glass coffee table in front of her before sinking back comfortably into the couch cushions.

"You're beginning to sound way too much like Stacie."

Beca turns her head towards the television then, seemingly just noticing there was a moving picture playing before the two them. "You're watching _The Goonies_?"

The way his lip seems to curl up in the corners at her statement is almost instant. "Miss Mitchell, are you letting on that you actually know what _The Goonies_ is?"

"Yeah, your point?"

Beca's face pivots to find Jesse's on the side of hers, finding his face lit up in smiles and abundant amusement. "I thought you didn't like movies."

"I don't," she argues, arms crossing across her chest in defense.

He counters back with, "Then explain to me how you happen to know one of the classics?"

"Just because I don't like movies doesn't mean I don't know of some," she argues back, eyes rolling back. "I don't live under a rock, Swanson."

"Okay, okay," he laughs lightly in response, hands flying up in a slight defense from her hard tone. He's just joking with her, but she's so easy to get riled. He tries a change in subject at his next question: "So, I have to say I'm a little surprised to see that you've wandered your way over here tonight. What brings you here at this late hour?"

"Ugh," she groans, sinking herself back further into the plush cushions.

Jesse lifts up his legs and folds them up into a pretzel, turning to face her directly. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say things aren't going too well with your dad."

Beca's head takes a sharp turn to face Jesse as she bluntly says, "He's being an asshole."

A small grin appears on Jesse's face as he nods along with her. "Alright, that's the second way I was going to word my sentence."

"And what's even more annoying is I _was_ trying. So hard." Beca stops a moment to turn and face Jesse, tucking her legs underneath her body. "I took them to the pier last night and we even had dinner out. Call me crazy, but I was actually _enjoying_ myself. I thought, 'wow, maybe my dad and I do have a chance to fix our relationship.' Yeah, what a stupid thought to have."

"What happened?" Jesse's tone is so gentle and genuine. She can hear in his voice that he actually cares, which is a nice change from the exchange she just had with her father a few hours earlier. She knows she could have gone to Amy - Amy was familiar with her story and would have listened. Hell, she probably could have even gone to Chloe to vent. But something in her pushed her to Jesse's, made her feet end up on his doorsteps instead of the friend she's had in Amy for years.

"It was just a few hours ago, after dinner. I was putting away leftovers and he shows me this ad for a job. A boring job. A job I have no interest in taking."

"A few hours?" Jesse asks puzzlingly. "Where have you been for the past few hours?"

Her response is simple: "Out. Around. Driving. Walking. I don't know. I was trying to distract myself."

"Walking around the city at this hour all by yourself?

"Yeah," Beca shrugs. She can't really seem to figure out what the big deal is about her being out alone in a city she's been living in for years on her own. It's also distracting her from her train of thought in her storytelling.

"You can't do that." He's firm. It's not a suggestion of sorts from the tone he uses, she can tell. He _really_ doesn't want her out in the city alone.

"And why not?" She doesn't mean for her color of her voice to come across as flirty, but she hears it after the words stop rolling off her tongue and hates it. She's thankful he doesn't seem to really pay any mind to it, though.

"You could have been hurt!" He throws his hands up, looking at her with this perplexed facial expression as if saying _'don't be stupid, you know this.'_ "You don't know what kind of people are out there galavanting at this time of night. There are very bad people out there in this city, Beca. Dangerous people."

"Geesh, Swanson. It's fine. I'm okay."

"Sure, this time," he says, softer, calmer. "Just promise me…don't go out like that again by yourself. Just..you should have come straight here instead of wandering around out on your own like that."

She sheepishly looks down at her hands in her lap, playing idle with them as she makes her next confession. "I didn't know if I _was_ going to come here. I didn't want to bother you. I didn't know if you'd even want to hear any of my shit."

"What? That's crazy. Beca, we're friends. You're welcome here anytime you need to talk."

"Thanks," she mutters timidly, still absentmindedly fiddling with her fingers. "Anyways, so, he shows me this job advertisement."

"Right," Jesse nods, jumping back into her story right along with her. "One you didn't have any interest in taking."

"And I told him that. I told him _again_ , because you and I both know I've told him plenty of times. Even though he knows what I want to do, even though he knows I already have a job right now." Her words come out fast and hurried, angry. She feels herself sink a little bit when she gathers her thoughts to say what she needs to next. She slows, anger disappearing completely before she continues. She feels sad, hurt, lost. "He doesn't think I'm good enough to be a producer. That's why he's been pushing me away from it all these years."

"He said that? He said you aren't good enough?" Jesse's sweet and calm and gentle. And so caring. She isn't sure what happened in her life for them to come into each others lives, but she's not thinking too hard on that question right now. Right now, she's just grateful to have someone who will listen to her.

"Well, no," she says, beginning to replay the conversation back in her mind. "No, not exactly, but it was implied. It was _definitely_ implied."

"Are you sure it wasn't just your anger that made you _think_ it was implied?"

A flash of anger escapes her. "Who's side are you on?"

"I'm on your side, of course," he reassures her. "But, being on your side doesn't come down to me just agreeing with you. I want to help you. Friends help each other. And tell them the cold, honest truth when they need to hear it most."

"Well, that sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me."

His eyes narrow down at her. "Do you think it's possible that maybe, just maybe, you took his comments the wrong way?"

"I don't know." A shrug. "It's _possible_ , I guess. But, still. Why has he been pushing me away from my dreams all these years?"

"Beca, I don't think he's trying to push you away from your dreams. I think he just wants to see you be successful. I think he knows how difficult that business is to get into and he doesn't want to see his only daughter struggle. He doesn't want to see you hurting. He just wants you to be happy."

"It sure feels like he's trying to deter me away from what I want," a grumbled response emits from her small body.

"And I don't doubt that it does. It's going to take compromise from _both_ of you," he looks at her when he emphasizes _both._ "But, I don't think you're relationship is beyond repair." Her eyes drift over in his direction, glossy and hopeful. "Which, I'm sensing is something you want to fix as much as he wants to. Even if you lead on otherwise."

"You know, I really don't like you all that much right now," she says softly. "But, thank you."

"It's been a pleasure to assist you on this fine holiday."

"You're such a nerd," she laughs despite her comment. "How _was_ your holiday, by the way?"

"Well, let's see," he begins, ready to count the activities he's done on his left hand. "I worked a little bit. I watched a movie. I ate a frozen meal for dinner. Watched another movie, and then got a visit from a friend just a bit ago."

"Worked? Jesse, please tell me you're joking."

"No, I answered some emails and made some calls…"

She stops him before he can finish whatever it was that he was trying to say. "Jesse, you're not supposed to work on your days off. That's why it's called a day off."

"I didn't have anything else to do. My parents went to visit my sister in Boston this year, and Sadie…," he trails off, his words getting softer with each sound he makes. "I don't actually know where Sadie is."

Beca feels her eyes widen. "You still haven't heard from her?"

"I have not." A simple statement, as if he's not even surprised. As if it this is a natural and normal occurrence.

"She's been gone for like two weeks, Jesse. She's your _fiancé._ How could she not want to hear from you, or hear how you're doing?" Jesse only shrugs, no words needed to indicate how he felt. "Have you tried reaching out to her?"

"I did, I _was_ trying," he starts by saying. "I was calling the first few days she was gone. I'd either get shrugged off pretty quickly, she clearly didn't want to be bothered with me. Or, I'd get no response at all." He stops a moment, Beca staying silent on the side of him "I figured I could keep calling, but it was pretty evident she didn't want to be bothered with me, so I just started thinking, why am I the only one who seems to be putting effort into this relationship anymore?"

"She _should_ be reaching out to you, Jess. If you're questioning that at all, you shouldn't be. She is every part equally responsible for making this relationship work. It shouldn't all be weighing down on your shoulders."

"I know that," he says. "But, then I think maybe she's just as lost as I am. Maybe she doesn't know where to start."

"That's not all on you to be making it work, though, Jesse. If she's not giving anything…I think if she cared about making things work….I think she would be at least putting some effort into the relationship."

"You're right. And I know that. Deep down, I know that." A breath. A small shift in position to make himself more comfortable. Looks down to avoid her eyes. "I hate giving up. It's not in my nature. Giving up feels like I'm failing this relationship, failing her, failing _me,_ " A sigh. "But lately, it feels like ending it is the only solution to the problem."

Words fail her after his confession. What does one say to someone, anyways, after vocalizing that the only way to fix your long term relationship, is to end it? She hasn't been in that situation before, hasn't been in a relationship serious enough where it's been in an engagement zone, where marriage was even a topic of discussion.

She can't reassure him through words, but she does want to give him comfort in someway, to let him know she's here, that she's a friend to him, too, as he is to her. She scoots herself closer to him, just slightly, as there already wasn't a large amount of space between them, her knee brushing against the top of his thigh, and her arm coming up to rest gently against his bicep.

His eyes find hers upon her touch. It's soft, thankful. So very gentle. It's that tenderness in his eyes that stir something inside her, make her feel an odd certain way.

A way she can't remember feeling before.

She leans forward ever so slightly, her lips covering his, so softly, in the soft darkness of the room surrounding them. Jesse's quick to respond, pressing his mouth harder against her own, moving their lips together in a steady rhythm.

It's not long before he pushes her back slightly, her back flat against the soft surface of the couch. He pulls away from her, his elbows holding his weight up as he gazes into her blue eyes. One of his hands finds his way to the loose strands of hair against her face, pushing them behind her ear and out of her way.

She notices how Jesse's face starts to move towards her again, so she takes her right hand and holds on to the back of his head, guiding his mouth back down to hers once again, smiling into the kiss once their lips meet in the middle.

She doesn't know what possessed her to kiss him, doesn't know what happened to cause the desire to escalate so quickly. She knew it was wrong, but in that moment, she just wanted to _feel._ Wanted to feel the touch of him on her, wanted to feel his lips on her once again.

She elevates herself slightly, sure to not break the skin to skin contact with Jesse, beginning to unbutton the blue and black plaid shirt she had on over her white tank top. He notices her fingers trying to work at her shirt, his hands coming over to help with the last two buttons on the bottom, pulling the fabric off her body, tossing the shirt into room, forgotten and unimportant to the two of them in this moment. His hand comes around to cup the side of her face, holding it so gently in the palm of his hand, their lips still moving together in perfect unison.

It's not until Jesse's hand starts tugging at the end of her white tank top, dragging it up, his hand coming into direct contact with the skin on her abdomen, when her thoughts seem to come crashing down around her. She pushes up against his chest, sitting up quickly, putting her head between her hands when the realization of what just happened sinks in.

What _she_ just let happen, what _she_ started.

 _Again. It happened again_ , she thinks.

"What am I doing?" She looks over at him sitting beside her. She indicates between the two of them with her right hand. "We can't do this."

"If I'm being honest," he says lightly. "We lasted a whole lot longer than I thought we were going to."

"What?"

"Oh, c'mon." A small chuckle escapes his lips. "This was bound to happen again."

"No, it wasn't! How?" She scoffs at the words he just said, still echoing in her head. "What?"

"There's something going on between us," he says, directly staring into her blue eyes, reaching out and resting his hand atop hers. "I feel it. You feel it."

She deflects, shaking her head back and forth, pulling her hand out from under his. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He looks at her directly, her eyes shifting to his once more before he says, "Tell me you don't feel something between us."

Her moment of silence is answer enough to herself to realize how she feels about him.

"I still can't do this with you, Jesse," she responds, the words a clear indication that she wanted this, too. It was weird hearing herself say it aloud, weird hearing herself admit to wanting this not only to herself, but to Jesse as well. "You're engaged to be married."

"I know," he sighs.

"And…I've been down this road before."

"Down what road?" Curiosity sparkles in his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"There was this guy. Luke." She pauses to make sure she has his utmost attention. "I thought things were great," she lets out a humorless laugh. "Joke was on me, though."

"What happened?"

The frustrations of the memories stir inside her. "I don't know. I hate talking about it. It makes me look like a huge fool."

"You can trust me." Kindness shines in his eyes and it's in that, that she feels he won't judge her for her past mistakes.

"I was stupid, and I was naive," she starts. "I thought he loved me, but…he didn't love me. Turns out he was in another relationship the whole time."

"Why would he do that to you?"

Her shoulders fall up and down, only once, only slightly. "Beats me."

"How did you…find out?"

Bluntly, she says, "Saw him out with her in town one day swapping spit with each other."

She can see the disgust in his eyes, the anger at this guy, this guy he doesn't even know doing that to _her._ It's an odd feeling, to witness him showing her he cares for her, cares _about_ her. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Bec."

"It's just that," she pauses a brief moment. "As long as your with her…I can't do this. I can't," she stops, correcting her words. "I _won't_ be the other woman again."

"You're not just _some_ other woman to me though, Bec. You're smart, and funny, and beautiful, and talented."

A small chuckle comes out at the words he just spoke. "Yeah, tell Sadie that."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"Yes." She's surprised by how easily her words roll of her tongue.

"Done."

She's shocked by how easily he replies, how quickly. "Really?"

"Really," he confirms, strongly. "I'll talk to her."

"I don't want you to do it just because of this, though, I don't want to be the reason you end things with her if you want to make it work."

"Beca, I think you and I both know my relationship has been over for quite some time. I'm just…finally accepting it," he says. "Thanks to some help from you."

She smiles softly up at him, noticing the digital clock flashing red on his cable box. "It's late. I really should get going."

"Let me walk you out."

They make it to his front door, stopping in an awkward silence. "Well, thanks for….listening to me. About my dad and…everything."

"That's what friends are for, right?"

She shifts on her feet slightly, unsure what to say. "Well, I guess I'll see you Monday, then?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "I'll see you, Monday."

She turns to leave, hand on the doorknob, ready to turn it and walk out into the cool morning air before he grabs her arm lightly, turning her around to face him, and softly pressing his lips against hers. She hates how she seems to melt into it. Hates how it makes her feel guilty, but still wanting it at the same time.

He pulls back just a moment later, and she curses herself for being upset that it's over, for wishing it had lasted longer.

His smiling face greets her when she opens her eyes. "See you, Monday, Bec."

She doesn't let him see the small smile that forms on her face until she hears the door close quietly behind her.

* * *

He closes the door quietly in the dead of night, watching as Beca started walking away from his home, sinking his back against the hard surface to replay the past few hours back again in his head.

Beca. _Kissing_ Beca. _Beca._

Did he just agree to call off his engagement?

Just like that?

Without any hesitation?

He's shocked how simple it all really seemed when it boiled down to it, how easy it was for him to make that decision in the spur of the moment. He's been against this for years, ending his relationship, because ending it meant quitting and he _wasn't_ a quitter. It's like he's known for a while this was how things were going to go, that the end would come eventually, but he's just opening up to it, just finally seeing the light.

It's not until he's lying in bed on his cold pillow and soft sheets a while later when the realization truly hits him, when the actuality of the situation fully makes itself clear to him.

He can't believe how easily he agreed to talk to Sadie.

He can't believe he's going to finally tell Sadie things between them aren't working out anymore.

He can't believe how liberated he feels.

* * *

She doesn't even bother to start caring about the late hour when she shuts the door to her black four door and reaches for her cell phone and dials the one other friend she can trust right now in this situation.

Her friend doesn't bother answering with a typical _hello._ No, she's greeted with a remark of: "It's nearing 3 in the morning. This can't be good."

She turns the key in the ignition, starting the engine and letting the warm air from the car heater start to heat up the inside of her car. Beca doesn't have time for Amy's smartass retorts right now. "Not helping, Amy."

"What trouble did you get yourself into this time, Mitchell?" Amy asks this is in such a light tone, as if it's a regular occurrence. And, okay, it's definitely not a _regular_ occurrence but she definitely may have called Amy before at late hours after getting herself into trouble. "Drunk at bar? Being held in a prison cell?"

"That was _one_ time!"

Beca sinks her head into the palm of her hand, stressed, confused, and completely not ready to hear the next words she says come out of her own mouth.

"I think I'm falling in love with Jesse."

* * *

 _(Fun fact! This is the chapter that inspired the whole story.)_

 _Wow. An update. Within a week? I know, shocking, right? Wasn't even planning to drop that bombshell at the end, but y'know, it seemed to be perfect timing. By far, my favorite chapter to write so far so I hope it lived up on your end as well! Let me know what you guys thought!_


	10. Chapter 10

She wakes up that morning feeling different.

Lighter, less heavy. Less stressed.

As if a weight's been lifted off her shoulder.

Her eyes dart to the digital clock on the side of her bed - 10:47 A.M. It wasn't as bad as Beca was expecting, earlier than she was anticipating herself sleeping in, considering she didn't return to her apartment until around 3 A.M. after her visit with Jesse.

 _Jesse_.

She lets her mind think back to the night before, lets herself think back on the memories from just hours ago with him, not being able to help the smile that starts to curve at the corner of her mouth when she thinks of the feeling she had when his lips were on hers.

He felt the same way about her as she did about him.

Which is a relief, because she feels herself falling for this guy. Fast.

But when she thinks for a minute, she remembers there's still an obstacle standing in their way.

Sadie. His fiancé. His girlfriend of almost _six_ years. His girlfriend he's been on the outs with for a while, but refuses to give up because he doesn't want to give up on her. Doesn't want to let anyone down.

Who he said he'd leave, said he finally talk with, so _they_ could be together.

She feels….happy, for the first time in a long time.

The next thing she notices, is how quiet her apartment is for this time of morning. Surely, her dad and Sheila already woke for the day as they never were ones to sleep in very late. It's this that prompts her to finally toss the soft quilt off her body and head into the living room in her apartment to see if they were still here.

She puts on a pot of coffee for herself in the kitchen, her first line of duty every morning, and notices her apartment is definitely empty. She sees a small note hanging up on the refrigerator with eligible writing in her dad's handwriting:

 _Bec,_

 _I know you didn't get in until almost 3, and I didn't want to wake you. Shelia and I headed out for some breakfast. We shouldn't be out too long. Love you._

Her dad. She needed to talk to him, needed to talk through some things with him and begin to repair their frayed bond.

Her phone beeps beside her on the kitchen counter while she puts her normal sugar and cream into the warm mug of liquid. She notices the name on the screen, immediately unable to stop the grin that spreads on her face.

 _Can't stop thinking about you._

She types back to him quickly: _Don't be cheesy._

 _I'm serious. I had a great time last night._ His response was almost instant.

She types back, _you're such a nerd,_ setting herself down on her sofa, flipping the television on and awaiting his response. She finds some old 90's sitcom on, barely paying it any mind as she enjoys her coffee and conversation with Jesse. The classic text-tone goes off around her and she feels the phone vibrate against the furniture.

 _Are you free tonight? Want to do something?_

And all of a sudden this jolt of inspiration hits her like a ton of bricks.

She hasn't felt inspired to work on her music in a _very_ long time. It's been a struggle for months, close to a year, where she hasn't been able to produce anything she's proud of, happy with. Every time she would sit down to try and make something worthwhile, she'd hit a wall, a hard wall, and give up when she realized she was getting anywhere with anything.

She knows Jesse's got something to do with it, something to do with her mood and overall happiness level.

Something to do with her new spark of electricity and drive to work on some music.

She grabs her laptop and heads to her music room, setting up her equipment and resting her Beats headphones atop her ears, opening her music applications downloaded onto her Apple laptop.

She shoots him back a quick response, telling him she was indeed free and would love to do something later tonight.

Then, she gets to work.

* * *

She's busy behind her computer screen when she hears her apartment door open and shut quietly. She saves her progress on the song she's working on - her third of the morning - and heads out to the main living area to greet her guests.

"Dad, can we…talk? Before we head to the airport?"

She notices the look on Sheila's face, a knowing glance that this was a discussion for father and daughter, not to be intruded in on by her. She simply says, "I'll go finish packing while you two chat," before excusing herself into the guest bedroom down the hall.

"Sure, kiddo. What's going on?"

"I just want you to know that…I'm sorry. About last night," she says, the words rolling off her tongue slowly, the words hard for her to say. Apologies weren't her strongest quality. "I didn't mean to go off on you like that."

"I'm sorry, too, Bec. I didn't mean to push you," he lets out a small laugh, sitting himself down on one of the kitchen island bar stools, perching himself up directly across from her standing form. "I'm just looking out for you is all, you're my little girl."

"I know. I know that. You…," she trails off, eyes closing and her head moving left to right a few times, trying to find her words, trying to find the _right_ words. "You just want the best for me. I get that, and I appreciate that you're looking out for me. I can see that now. But…"

"But, you just wish I'd back off a little and be a little more supportive of the direction you chose to go in?

"I don't mean to come across as an ungrateful bitch or anything, that I don't appreciate you looking out for me," she trails off the end of her sentence. "It's just frustrating. Sometimes it feels like your words come off as you wanting to push me in a direction that I'm not interested in, or comfortable with. That you don't trust my choices." Beca pauses a moment, looking straight at him as she finishes her thoughts. Her voice dropping to a much lower volume at her next words. "That you don't think I'm good enough to do what I want to do."

She swears what she sees shine in her fathers eyes is hurt, shock at the revelation at how she truly feels. "Bec, I never," her dad stops, pushing his hand to head in frustration. "I never meant for it to come across that way, I never meant for you to feel like you're not good enough. That was never my goal to make you feel that way."

"I just wish you'd trust my judgement and my decisions," she shrugs lightly. She feels a sense of sadness, a sense of unbelief that they've got to this point in their relationship. But, she also feels a since of hope, a since of recovery between the two of them. A break, a crack. Like they're getting somewhere, moving forward. "I just want you to be supportive of me and what I chose."

"I'm so sorry. That you feel that way. Bec. Of course I support you, and I always will," her dad sighs, leaning his elbows against the counter. "It's just the dad in me, I guess. I don't want to see you struggle, see you get knocked down again and again."

"That can happen with any career, Dad."

"Yeah," he nods, a small chuckle sounding through the kitchen. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"It's just that…" Beca trails off, trying to find the courage to take their conversation one step further. "I don't have a relationship with mom. At all. Not even close to one. And you and I…I know we don't get along the _greatest,_ but," she stops. A brief pause to gather her thoughts. "I'd really hate to see any relationship we _could_ have not exist because of something…something like this."

The door to the guest room creaks open, Sheila popping her head out, father and daughter's heads both whipping to the right to see the person responsible for the noise.

"Sorry," she says, making her way down the hall. "Just grabbing my toothbrush. Ignore me. I'm not even here."

"I've gotta try harder with you, Bec." Beca can see the disappointment twinkling in her dads eyes, the sadness. How hard he's being on himself over the whole situation between the two of them. "I've gotta put more effort in to make this relationship work."

Beca shrugs. "We both do."

"I need to go finish packing, seeing as our flight takes off in," he says. Her dad looks down at the watch on his wrist, double checking the time. Beca smirks at the action. It's so old-fashioned to her to wear a watch. Especially considering there was a digital clock right on the stove in front of him. "Three hours."

He starts heading to the back of her apartment, towards the guest room. She only nods in response, watching him disappear into the bedroom. His head bobs back out only seconds later, and she looks back at him in surprise before he speaks.

"You go take that music industry by storm, okay?"

* * *

 _Lunch. 2pm. Mendocino's._

That was the text Beca had received from Amy just a short time after noon. It didn't really feel like it was negotiable, wasn't a question of any kind if she _could_ make it. No, it was a demand. And she knew exactly why Amy wanted to meet with her, exactly what lunch was going to entail.

She wasn't really in the mood for an interrogation, but she also wasn't in the mood to meet Amy's wrath had she decided to _not_ show up so, Beca planned accordingly and met Amy at Mendocino Farms, who was now sitting across from her on the wooden table.

"You kind of squared yourself away on the phone there the other night when I started asking you the tough questions." Amy begins the conversation for them, Beca sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up. It was the last thing she wanted to discuss with Amy right now. She didn't for-see it being a light and fluffy conversation.

"That's cause it was almost three in the morning and I wasn't really up for an interrogation at that time."

"So, my darling friend, would you care to explain to me how 'forgetting about Jesse and the kiss,'" Amy jumps right to the point, without much of a surprise to Beca. "Turned into 'I think I'm falling in love with him.'"

Beca shrugs, keeping her eyes focused on the sandwich she had ordered. She's trying to be short, quick with her responses, hopeful that Amy might just leave the topic alone. "I don't know."

But Amy pushes forward. "Eh, something tells me you probably have a pretty good idea."

"I don't know, okay? It's just…" Beca stops herself, trying to control the spark of anger that emitted out of her. More calmly, more gently, she continues. "I think I've been falling for him for a while."

"Yeah, that much was evident but thank you for finally admitting it to yourself."

She sends a cold stare in Amy's direction as her friend slurps on the ice cold lemonade in front of them. "I'm not in the mood for the sass today."

"Well," she mutters quietly. Beca notices the look of contemplation on her face, only, it's not genuine. She's not contemplating anything at all. "When you can get your head on straight and not find yourself in these predicaments, maybe we can talk about cutting the sass level down a bit, but for now I'm telling it to you straight."

Beca only rolls her eyes at her friends response. "Whatever."

"So," she drawls out the vowel on her last word, slowly. "What exactly transpired last night?"

"My dad and I got into a fight."

Amy motions forward with her hand, a small gesture, happy she seems to be getting somewhere with her conversation with Beca. "Alright."

"I don't know why I went over there, I wasn't planning to go to him or anything. I just kind of ended up there. And we…talked."

Amy waits a moment before asking, "And?"

"I don't know what got into me, I just kissed him. It just happened. He was helping me with things with my dad and…" Beca trails off, looking up at her friend with a hopelessness kind of feeling settling into her stomach. "I know I shouldn't have, but I can't control what I feel."

"You mean to tell me you can't control your lips ending up on someone else's?"

"That's not what I said and besides he kissed me back!" Beca's quick to defend her actions from the previous night. "But, when things started to move in a direction that I knew we wouldn't be able to turn back from…I stopped it."

"Are you forgetting the very small, very tiny, minuscule detail that he _is_ still engaged?"

She stares at Amy across the way, seriousness in her eyes. "Why do you think I stopped it?"

"I don't know," Amy shrugs. "I can't seem to figure out why you even _started_ it so, please enlighten me."

"Give me a break, Amy." Beca holds her head in her hands, stress quickly finding it's way to her - at lightening speed it feels like. When her friend doesn't respond, doesn't initiate another question for her, she continues. "He said he would talk to her. That he'd leave her for me."

"Oh, Beca," Amy places her plastic cup of ice cold lemonade down on to the table. "Please tell me you're not that stupid."

She innocently asks, "What?"

"This could end badly." Amy shakes her head and corrects herself, "This _will_ end badly."

"Well, positivity all around today."

"Beca, I'm serious," Amy states. "This is Luke all over again."

"No, it's not," Beca says. "Luke didn't tell me he had a girlfriend. With Jesse, I've known since the beginning. It's totally different."

A blank face meets hers. "You are joking right?"

"If he said he's going to talk to her, he will," she decides, firm in her words. "I trust him."

* * *

He takes her to the Santa Monica Pier that night.

She deems it a little cheesy, but she plays along with his plan to bring her here for the evening.

They walk into Pacific Park closely together, his hand brushing against hers multiple times. She gets the feeling that he wants her to link their hands together, but it feels weird to her. It feels wrong to do it so openly, to do so in public when anyone could see them and call them out on it.

So, she crosses her arms across her chest to avoid the awkwardness from continuing any longer.

Jesse stops at the ticket booth first and purchases them both an unlimited rides wristband. Beca elbows him when he tries to hand over cash for _both_ of their wristbands. She holds out money for her own and mutters a simple, "Here."

Jesse just shakes his head and says, "My treat."

Beca knows arguing with him will get her nowhere, not right now at least, so she lets him pay and slip the wristband onto her wrist with such gentleness and precision before putting his own on his left wrist.

Jesse excitedly drags her body over to the games first. Jesse just wraps his hand around her tiny wrist and pulls her over in the direction of the Riptide Ring Toss table first. "Let's go win you a prize."

"Jesse, no. I don't need a prize."

He plays the Riptide Ring Toss first and loses terribly. She can't help but laugh at his utter lack of hand-eye coordination, but he isn't defeated, only claims that he'll win at the next challenge.

He plays Fire Ball next, which again he fails miserably at. Then, he tries his hand at Wac-A Mole and that game deems to be yet _another_ challenge for him as he walks away from that table without a prize once again.

He finally finds small success at the Balloon Bust table, not winning the largest prize, but he does walk away with a small stuff animal for her, in the shape of a dragon.

Beca's holding the dragon close to her chest when she says, "You're a dork, you know that."

"I think you like my dorkiness," he smiles in her direction.

They decide to stop at Beach Burger for a quick bite to eat next, both of them getting a burger and splitting some fries and onion rings between the pair of them. Jesse, once again, won't let her pay for _anything._ She tries to shove some bills in his direction once again, but he won't allow it, muttering something about how it's _his treat_ and _being a gentleman._

Jesse suggests the ferris wheel next, mentioning how it's a calm enough ride to not upset their stomachs so quickly after dinner and how the sun setting would look incredible from a distance above.

They're sitting incredibly close to one another as the red cart they're in starts rising up farther from the Earth's surface. The yellow, orange and red hues blend effortlessly at the horizon of their planet, reflecting beautifully off the ocean's shining surface.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jesse asks, lightly nudging her into her side. "C'mon, you can say it. I was right."

"It's alright, I guess."

"Oh, c'mon. You know it's better than alright."

They circle around once, coming back down to the Earth's hard surface before winding back up and around again. But then, it starts slowing down. Slowly, slowly, slowly comes to a creeping halt, leaving the two of them stuck at the most highest point of the attraction.

She turns to say something, but Jesse stops her. Stops her mind from forming the words, stops her mind from even _remembering_ the words she was about the say when he grabs her chin gently with his thumb and brings her lips down to his.

He takes her by surprise at first because they were suppose to be playing it cool, not move forward with anything until he talked with Sadie. But, she can't deny how good it feels, how _right_ it feels.

Amy's words start echoing in her head - _it will end badly, it will end badly, it will end badly._

 _It's just a kiss, it's just a kiss,_ she wills her mind to stop playing on loop, to just let herself feel without thinking too hard.

She could totally kiss him while they waited until things with Sadie were under control.

Kissing him wasn't hurt anything, right? Kissing was innocent enough.

And as finally lets herself settle into the kiss, the sun setting behind them in the distance creating the perfect backdrop for such a happy moment, she feels that her mind is finally at ease.

* * *

Jesse walks into the foyer of his house, unable to keep the smile off his face after his evening with Beca. He can't remember the last time he's felt so happy, so free. It's refreshing. To care about someone, who also cares about you in return. Jesse kicks off his shoes on the small carpet by the door, heading into the living room to find a surprise waiting for him sitting on the sofa.

"Sadie."

Lost in her thoughts, she turns to face him when she hears his voice coming from behind her. "Jesse. Hi."

"You've been gone for over two weeks." Jesse saunters into the room fully, sinking himself into the reclining chair in the far left corner of the room. "Where have you been?"

Sadie ignores his question - moving straight into another area of discussion. Her next words take him by surprise. "I think we need to talk."

"Okay," he says. "Alright, good. I was hoping we could talk, too."

"Let me say what I need to first."

"Okay," he mutters quietly. "Go ahead."

"I've been doing a lot of…thinking and…reflecting these past few weeks." Jesse nods lightly, a wordless response for her to continue. "Jesse, I'm sorry."

He blinks. Pauses. Stops for a moment. Did he…did he hear her correctly? Was Sadie apologizing? Sadie hasn't apologized…Jesse can't remember the last time Sadie has apologized, took responsibility for her actions.

She continues, "This relationship hasn't been what is used to be for a while now."

"No." His voice is soft. Distant. "No, it hasn't."

"And I can't help but feel like some of that is my fault."

His eyes widen at the wording. _Some,_ he thinks. Jesse's sure he hasn't been perfect, he knows he's had faults, knows he's made mistakes, too. He knows his work load probably attributed to their decline, too, but _some?_ The way she says it, it feels like she's faulting _him_. Taking responsibility for only a sliver of their problems when she's been the person who's changed so much.

"I just…I would hate to see this go to waste, you know? It's been six years, Jess." Sadie pauses. Jesse's shocked by the sincerity in her voice, but he honestly can't tell if she's be genuine or if this is all an act. He wouldn't put that past her, but it feels sincere in this moment. "We've gotta do something. We've gotta fix our relationship."

"Right. Sadie, look," Jesse tries to turn it, tries to bring his thoughts together to say what he needed to say to Sadie, what he promised Beca he would do. But, that fails quick when Sadie keeps talking.

"That's what marriage is right? For better or for worse?"

"Sadie," he tries again.

"We promised each other the long haul years ago. I'm intent to keep that promise." Sadie smiles, leans forward to loop her arms around his neck loosely. "I'm so happy we had this talk."

He can't find it in himself to wind his arms back around her.

* * *

It's only when she's returning from her lunch break that Beca notices that Jesse was back in the office.

He'd been out all morning, running errands and visiting his warehouse and sorting various problems out within the business. She had told him it sounded boring and while he didn't disagree, he only told her that they were necessary tasks before he disappeared onto the elevator earlier that morning.

But when she rounded the corner to head to her oak desk, she noticed the door that's been open all morning was finally closed, a sure sign that Jesse was behind that heavy door.

She places her large iced coffee onto her desk, then makes her way over to Jesse's office. She knocks her normal three times, but she doesn't wait for his response, she just opens the door and peeks her head in to spot him sitting behind his computer screen.

She fully pushes her way in, smiling and grinning at the guy in front of her. "Hey, you."

"Bec, hey," he smiles, standing up and wrapping his arms around her petite frame. It feels warm. And welcome. It was most definitely a welcome touch. "I bought you something while I was out this morning."

She pulls back at that comment. "Please tell me you didn't."

He grabs onto a little black box sitting on his vintage desk, pulling out a silver necklace, in the shape of a treble clef, sparkling with diamonds.

"Because you want to make music," he says.

He dangles it in front of her and she holds the piece of jewelry gently in her hand. "Jesse, I can't accept this." His face drops in front of her. "This….this must have cost a fortune."

"That isn't for you to worry about." He flashes that smile she likes so much at her. "It's yours."

She's at a loss for words, can't really find it in her to say anything else or argue back further so she just mutters a simple, "Thank you."

He beckons her to turn around, pivot her body so he can help her with locking the piece of jewelry behind her neck, and when he's finished clasping the piece of jewelry behind her he says, "Sadie came home this weekend."

That stops her. She turns slowly back around to face him asking, "Did you talk to her?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" Her face crinkles up. "What does that mean?"

"I tried to talk with her, but she had some other plans." She doesn't respond, she doesn't have anything to add, she's just eager to find out what _sort of_ means. "Turns out Sadie wanted to talk, too."

"And?"

"She _apologized_ to me. She was sorry our relationship has gone to hell and wants to make it _work."_ He lets out a humorless laugh. "I didn't know what I was suppose to say to her after that."

"Well, if you're with her, then you can't be with me."

"I know, I know," his hand moves to his head in frustration, making his hair a scruffy mess. "I'm going to talk to her, I promise. We're going to be together."

He pulls her into his chest once more, her head resting lightly against his frame, letting herself succumb to the comfort this brought her.

She can't do anything else to control the situation besides trust him.

And Amy might tear her to shreds for saying it but, well, she _did_ trust him.

* * *

Jesse's words stick with her until she reaches her apartment that evening.

 _Because you want to make music._

She feels the heavy piece of jewelry against her skin, sinking down on her like a reminder that she _did_ want to make music.

That she _could._

She's been holding herself back for so long out of fear of rejection, failure. Letting facts and numbers get in the way of what she's wanted to do for so long. And Jesse…Jesse makes her forget about all that. Makes her just want to go for it without letting her insecurities get in her way.

So, she does just that.

She takes one of the demos she made earlier that morning and submits it to Universal.

* * *

She _cannot_ find her favorite gold stud earrings _anywhere_.

She's looked upstairs, downstairs, in her car. She even called her family back East to see if she left the there by mistake. But, no. Her mom assures her she's found nothing belonging to her since she's left.

She hopes she didn't leave them in her London hotel room from the week before because she's pretty sure she'd never see them again if that was the case. They _were_ gorgeous, gold with diamonds lining the rims. Someone was sure to snatch those up if they found them disregarded in her vacant hotel room.

And they were worth more than a few thousand dollars and she would be damned if she lost them.

Sadie decides to scour the living room even further than she did in her first look through. She _was_ hoping they would just pop out at her, without her having to get down on her hands and knees to look through and under the couch.

But, alas, she's figured it has to be done if she wanted to find those earrings.

So, she starts digging.

But what she finds is even more interesting than her gold stud earrings.

A woman's shirt.

A black and blue plaid shirt, tucked away, long forgotten on the hardwood, near the floor to ceiling length windows, hidden beneath the window curtains falling to the floor.

It wasn't hers, no. There was not a chance in hell that the raggedy shirt belonged to her, she wouldn't be caught dead in a plaid shirt. And neither would any of her friends.

There was only one woman she knew who wore plaid shirts.

Jesse's new assistant.

Beca Mitchell.

* * *

 _Wow, another update within the span of 2 weeks?! Hope you guys are enjoying this/enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what y'all think!_


	11. Chapter 11

Flowers.

He sent her _flowers._

A dozen bright, ruby red roses resting gently inside a sparkling, crystal clear vase, filled just about half way with water.

That's what she finds sitting upon her work desk when she returns from doing her afternoon Starbucks run. Although, now she's suspicious of Jesse and the fact that he probably sent her out for coffee _just_ so he could get the flowers into the office without her being curious about anything.

She curses herself internally for the smile that curves her face, curses _him_ for making her feel this way: giddy, excited and… _happy._

She hates that he does this to her. Hates that someone has that type of control over her and her emotions. But most of all, she hates that she's put herself in this situation again. Hates that she's put herself there almost willingly.

She couldn't shake these feelings that Jesse Swanson gave her.

She lifts a single rose between her index and middle finger, smelling the fragrance that fills the air, placing it gently back in against the beautiful arrangement prepared in front of her. She lifts the small white envelope, her name written in a fancy elegant script across the stark surface. She pulls the card out of its casing, reading the short message before her:

 _We'll make this work. I promise._

 _Jesse_

She knew it was him, no one else would send her flowers. But still, reading the card, seeing his name on that little piece of paper, it only caused her smile to grow even more. She kind of feels like a teenager again, giddy and excited over these little gestures, over the unknown of where their relationship could go.

She finds her feet leading her to Jesse's door, knocking a soft three times before entering to see him buried in stacks of paperwork behind his desk.

He looked stressed, she could see it in his eyes, the creases in his forehead. The shuffling of the papers he makes among the stacks in front of his body. It changes instantly though, as soon as he sees her small frame peak around the doorframe and fully enter his office. His lips start to curve upwards at the sight of her, and she closes the door quietly behind her.

There's no words spoken between them. Jesse gently guides his body to hers, his lips finding hers in the brightly lit room. The floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city behind them, allowing all the natural light to flood in around them.

This was wrong. This was so very wrong. Kissing him was _wrong._ But why did it feel so right?

Why did everything about this guy make her throw logic and sense out the window?

She pulls back after a moment, muttering softly, "Thanks for the flowers."

"I mean it, you know," he says quietly. "We'll make it work."

She just nods wordlessly, eyes closed and head bend. A brief moment of disbelief, a lack of certainty in this all. Because _what if_. _What if_ this doesn't all work out, _what if_ this is just some silly pipe dream and she's setting herself up for heartbreak again?

"Hey, hey," his gentle hands push her chin up, forcing her to open her eyes at his soft tone. "We will make it work, alright? I'm gonna talk to her."

She nods, the calm in his voice, the gentle manor of his tone. Her hands find his, still resting below her chin. "Okay."

"I _do_ have another surprise for you, though."

"Another surprise?" She steps back, happy to hear the vigor in her voice has returned. "You're spoiling me, Swanson."

"I think it might cheer you up. Put you in a good mood," he smiles. "Well, an even _better_ mood because I know my presence alone is enough to put you in a good mood."

"Be careful there, Jesse. If I didn't know better, I might say it sounds like your ego is growing." She pauses a moment, waiting for him to continue, to just spit it out, but he doesn't. He just stands there in front of her with that dumb goofy grin of his that she can't seem to get enough of. "Well? What is it?"

"You are free of work for the rest of the day," he smiles even bigger, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Get out of here and take the afternoon off."

"You're joking," she says. "You're just messing with me."

"No, really…" but he's interrupted before he can finish what he was going to say.

The door opens suddenly behind her, Stacie standing there, pen and notepad in her hand. "Jesse, I have a question, I've got…" But she trails off when she looks up at the two them, eyes wide open at the sight in front of her.

Beca drops their linked hands suddenly, stepping away from Jesse briskly, _trying_ to act as if everything between them was completely work related and causal.

"Well, don't let me interrupt a good time," Stacie says, smirking. "Just try to keep the volume down, if you know what I mean."

Beca feels her cheeks turning red at the words. Leave. She needed to leave now.

Stacie grins, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, Beca. It's just human nature."

"Bec," Jesse interrupts and her focus shifts back to him. "I probably should have let you in on the fact that Stacie's had us pegged for a while."

 _That_ takes her by surprise. "How would she…figure that out?"

"She's got this weird sixth sense," Jesse shrugs. "It's kind of annoying, actually."

A scoff from Stacie by the doorway. "Please, Jesse. You love it."

"Right. Okay, I'll let you two figure out what she needs help with," Beca turns towards the office door, ready to get herself out of there.

"Enjoy your afternoon off."

Stacie, watching Beca head out, door whips her head towards Jesse. "You gave her the afternoon off?"

"I did."

"Can I have the afternoon off?"

"No," he states, settling himself back into his chair. "You have work to do."

Beca just laughs quietly to herself at their playful banter as she closes the door behind her.

* * *

"I think Jesse's having an affair."

Chloe almost spits out the vanilla bean cappuccino she was sipping on right at Sadie. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Sade, are you sure?" That question comes from Sadie's sister, Kara, who Sadie was extremely happy to have in town for the next few days because of a business deal taking place within Kara's company. She didn't tell Chloe about Kara joining them today for coffee - she knew Chloe would have bailed on their plans if she found out about a third wheel joining along. It was classic Chloe. "And you have proof?"

"Yeah," Chloe says. "That's a _huge_ accusation to make about somebody without having any solid evidence."

Sadie pulls out a blue flannel shirt from her black handbag. Designer, brand new. And it hasn't even hit the public market yet. Sadie has to say she's quite proud of herself for acquiring it. "I have this shirt."

It's hardly evidence to bring these two on board with her theory, but it's all she's got right now. And it doesn't matter if they don't believe her, she _knows_ this shirt belongs to Beca Mitchell.

Upon seeing the shirt, Kara lets out a deadpanned, "And?"

"I found this is my house," she states. "It was tossed aside and all ruffled up near the windows."

"Sadie, no offense, but that shirt could be anybody's," Chloe states. Typical. It's the reaction she expected from Chloe. She knew Chloe would jump to Jesse's defense. "Are you sure you're just not being paranoid?"

"He works all night long, he's almost never home anymore. We barely speak to each other."

Sadie didn't want to point out that they _hadn't_ been speaking to each other for a while. That wasn't a new development. Things were rocky between the two of them for quite some time, but she wasn't going to point that out to them now. Not with Kara around. Kara didn't know of her and Jesse's romantic troubles. She was under the impression that everything couldn't be better between them. She planned on keeping it that way.

Chloe knew this though, she was sure of that. Jesse must have been sharing his personal life details with her. The two were good friends, after all. But if she did, she didn't let on that she was in the know of anything.

"Sadie, be real. He runs a company," Chloe says. "You know how hard he works. How busy he is."

"I know that. I know," she says. "I just…I know something's going on. Call it woman's intuition. _Something_ is up."

Her sister asks, "Do you have any idea who he's having an affair _with_?"

"It's his new assistant," she states matter-of-factly. "Beca Mitchell."

Sadie hears how Chloe almost chokes on the croissant she's nibbling on. "Beca? Sadie, c'mon."

"This shirt," she holds it up again, gripping onto it tightly in her palm. "It's hers. It has to be. She's the only person I know who wears plaid."

"Sadie, I wear plaid. It could be mine for all you know."

"I'm telling you guys," Sadie says. "It's her. She's the girl Jesse's fooling around with."

"Sadie, I mean, being honest here, Beca's one of my best friends. She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't put herself into a situation like that."

That was new information. She didn't know Chloe was close friends with Beca. She didn't even know Chloe _knew_ Beca. She probably would have thought twice about inviting Chloe along today had she know that tidbit of info.

"She could have just stopped by to drop off papers or something," Chloe adds. "Stacie's done that so many times before, hasn't she?"

"Yeah. Maybe, I guess," she says. "I guess that could be it."

"You're putting way to much thought into this. Jesse's not cheating on you, he wouldn't do that."

"You two are like the poster children for a perfect relationship," her sister chimes in. Well ,that couldn't be further from the truth. But her sister didn't need to know that right now. Or ever if she had any say in it.

"Well, I've gotta run," Chloe announces, standing up from the wooden chair. "Mom's flights getting in about now."

"Oh, no. You're leaving already?"

"Sorry, Sade. Mom won't be happy if I'm late to the airport." Chloe swings her bag over her shoulder, grabbing her sunglasses and keys set against the flat surface of the table. "It was nice meeting you, Kara."

"You too, Chloe."

"And, Sadie, really. Don't overthink this thing with Jesse. I mean, it's _Jesse_. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Sure, Chlo." Sadie smiles up at Chloe, hopefully convincing her that she's going to forget the whole thing.

As soon as the commercial door to the cafe closes behind Chloe's figure, Sadie leans across the table to her sister and asks, "You believe me right?"

"Of course, Sade." Kara rubs her hand up and down her sisters arm gently. "You're my sister, of course I believe you."

"Good," Sadie says. "Because Chloe surely doesn't."

"Why wouldn't Chloe believe you, though? I thought she was your friend."

"Sure, I guess. We're friendly, I'd say. Friends? Maybe. But she was friends with Jesse first. She'll be loyal to him before she's loyal to me."

"How do you plan on actually getting proof that he's cheating? Because I hate to tell you, but the shirt proves nothing."

"I don't know."

* * *

She's late, she's _so_ late and behind schedule. She _knows_ this, she knows. But Amy banging on her door repeatedly is so _not_ helping her get herself ready faster.

"Open the damn door, Mitchell!"

She shouts out, "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Beca only managed to put _one_ of her boots on before Amy started screaming at her, almost tripping on her way to the door.

"About time," her blonde friend responds once the door between them is no longer an obstacle. "Beca, please tell me you plan on putting another shoe on. If this is some new style thing, it's not working."

"You didn't give me much time to get the other one on before you started screaming at me to open the door." Beca glares at her friend from the couch, lacing up the second combat boot now. "You know, I have neighbors. They don't appreciate that stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. They'll get over it."

"And you know, we are just going for lunch. We're not on, like, an actual clock here. It's just you riding my ass."

Amy ignores her, eyes focused only on the dozen red roses sitting on her coffee table. She really should have thought to hide those before allowing Amy over to pick her up. She comments, "Nice flowers."

Beca just mutters a simple, "Thanks," trying to show as little interest in the conversation as she can.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume those are from your secret lover."

"He's not…" Amy stops her with a non amused look being shot in her direction. "He's not my secret lover."

Amy scoffs. "What else do you call making out with a guy that's done in secret?"

"We don't do that." All Amy does is give her that _yeah, right_ glare that she's all too used to getting. "We don't!"

"Alright, we'll pretend I believe you," Amy responds.

"Thank you."

"I don't believe you." Beca groans at Amy's constant badgering. "But I'll just go on pretending like I do."

"Sure, okay. Whatever. I don't feel like arguing with you about this."

"Someone has to keep you in check over all this. _You_ certainly have thrown all common sense out the window. One of us has to be the adult here."

"You know, I'm ready," Beca says, grabbing her keys and phone and sunglasses off the kitchen island. "I've been ready. I thought you came over here to pick up and not interrogate me."

"I did," Amy smirks. "Interrogating you is just an additional benefit."

"Right. Sure. Can we just get going?"

"You sound off, are you alright?" Amy asks her as Beca locks the door behind them. "You sound like you're sick or something."

"Yeah, I think it's just allergies or something." Beca shrugs off the accusations. She's fine, she's not sick. Beca Mitchell doesn't do sick. "I'm fine. Let's just go."

* * *

Jesse never thought he'd be so happy to be back in his own office as he was that afternoon.

He'd been stuck in meetings with clients and potential vendors at some hotel downtown all morning. He couldn't even remember which hotel it was that he showed up at he was so exhausted. Marriott? Hilton? Some 5-star hotel he didn't even know the name of?

He walked down the corridor to his office, surprised to find Beca's desk empty. He'd left her a few tasks to complete while he was gone, nothing too strenuous, just something to keep her busy while he would be out of the office for morning. She should have finished those by now, though. He expected to find her at her desk, munching on some lunch or working hard to finish up other tasks she knew that needed to be done.

But she was nowhere in sight. In fact, he didn't even see her car in the parking garage now that he thought about it.

He backtracks his steps just a few feet, stopping at Stacie's office and letting himself in when he sees her door is wide open.

"Do you know where Beca took off to by chance, Stacie?"

"Oh, sorry!" Stacie looks up from her computer. "Sorry, Jesse, I meant to send you a text this morning. It must have slipped my mind. She called out. She's sick. She didn't sound that good, really congested. And raspy."

Worry washes over him like a flood. "She's sick?"

"Yeah, she called in pretty early," she replies. "Said she didn't feel good and wouldn't be making it in today and that she should be back tomorrow."

"Did she say with what?"

"No, but you know it's the season for these things. It's probably a cold. There's a lot of stuff going around right now."

"Right. Okay," he mutters quietly. But truthfully, he can't shake the image of Beca curled up in her apartment - sick and unwell. He doesn't want her to be sick. He especially doesn't want her to be alone. "Thanks, Stacie."

"She's alright, Jesse." He's not surprised to hear that, not surprised to have had Stacie notice the worry that clearly and quickly came upon him. They've known each other too long, worked together too long for anything to get by her. "I can see you're worried, but she's okay."

Jesse just nods wordlessly before exiting her office and making his way back towards the elevators.

* * *

Beca's found herself a comfortable place on her sofa, put on some random movie channel, and really, she hasn't moved much all day.

And she's perfectly satisfied with that.

She's been in and out of sleep all day, this cold really wanted to knock her on her ass for a day or two.

Damn Amy for suggesting she was sick. She totally jinxed it.

The door knocks at some point in the early afternoon and Beca doesn't want to be bothered by getting up, so she just shouts out, "It's open!" She hopes when whoever is out there realizes it's not actually open, they'll just go away, but to her dismay, Jesse's voice comes back shouting, "No, it's not."

 _Jesse._ She gets up then, trudging her way to the door slowly, opening it for the boy behind the wooden frame.

"What are you doing here? You should be working."

"I heard you were feeling a little under the weather," he replies sheepishly. "So, I kind of rushed over her to make sure you were doing okay."

Okay, that almost brought a smile to her face. But just almost. She was too sick to care about forcing her lips into a grin today. But it does make her feel a certain way. Special, maybe. That Jesse cares this much about her to come check on her. That he's worried about her and wants to take care of her. It's a nice feeling, one she really hasn't had with a boy before.

"So, someone told me you were feeling a little sick today."

"A little?"

"Maybe more than a little," he says. "How are you feeling?"

"Urgh," she groans, turning around and allowing him to enter her apartment. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

He joins her on the couch, sitting just a few inches from her. Jesse holds out the small bag from Panera Bread in his hands out to here. "I did bring you some chicken noodle soup though. I thought it might help."

"Thanks," she grabs the bag, digging in right away. She's _starving._ She hadn't ate a thing all day. "You didn't have to do that."

"No, but by the looks of it, I'm glad I did. Did you eat at all today?"

"No." She takes the plastic cover off the hot bowl of soup, digging in with the flimsy black spoon that was packaged inside and taking her first bite. "I was too exhausted to even get up. All I've done is sleep."

"That's not a bad thing you know."

"No, I know." She closes the soup lid again, pushing it off to the side table beside her. "I just hate it."

He notices her actions, watching her as she tosses the warm bowl of soup of to her side. "Do you not like the soup? Is it not good? I can get you something else."

"No, it's not that," she says. "The soup tastes fine." And she knows she shouldn't, but she pushes herself into his side and rests her cheek against the warmth of his chest. She's happy when she feels his arm curl around her side and hold on to her tightly. "I just feel nauseous."

His hand brushes against her side lightly, up and down and up and down. "How did you get so sick?

"You've overworked me, that's what it is."

"Or," he suggests. "Maybe it's just flu season and you've caught a cold or something."

"I guess it could be that."

The softness of his fingers rubbing against the fabric of her shirt is calming, tranquil. Peaceful. The low buzzing of the television volume echoing in the room like a lullaby. The heat radiating off his body is soothing and comforting.

She closes her eyes, closes them slowly, telling herself she'll just rest them for a moment.

But before she knows it, she falls fast asleep against the comfort and warmth of his body.

* * *

 _Sorry for disappearing for a month…again…_

 _But, the good news is I've finished outlining the rest of this story! And I'd like to not drag it out…so I'm gonna work hard at getting this all written and out there._

 _Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter and be sure to let me know what ya thought!_


	12. Chapter 12

Jesse slowly pulls up in his long driveway, happy to see his home after another very long and excruciating day at work.

There was always too much to be done, too many deadlines to meet. It was impossible to stay on top of the current tasks while keeping up with future projects.

The last thing he wants to do is talk with his fiancé. Sit down with her and break it down to her as gently as he could that their relationship was over, that it had been over for a while and it was time to move on.

He hated this part. Avoided it all the time. Which was exactly why he was in the current predicament he was in - a dead end relationship working a job he hated. He didn't want to disappoint anybody or want to let anyone down, didn't want to quit too easily.

He hated giving up.

He takes the keys out of the engine of his four door, walking up the brick walkway and into the front door of their house.

 _His_ house.

It would be _his_ house when he through with this conversation. Which was what he wanted to happen, of course, it was just weird to think about. They'd been living here together for three years. The deed might be in his name, but this was _their_ house.

He takes his work shoes off on the carpet in the entryway, his barefoot hitting the hardwood floor. "Sadie, are you home?"

"In the kitchen," she shouts back at his question, but not loudly, just loud enough for him to hear her voice echoing through the halls. He makes his appearance then, Sadie looking through their refrigerator for something to eat. "How was your day?"

"It was alright," he says. "Busy."

"What do you want to do for dinner?"

"Actually," he pauses, unable to continue.

"What?"

 _Here goes nothing,_ he thinks.

"I think we need to talk, Sadie."

* * *

The first thing Chloe's eyes find in her apartment is the dozen roses set on the kitchen counter in their crystal clear, sparkling in the sunlight vase.

"Whoa." Chloe's so much more _girly_ when it comes to these things, for lack of a better way of putting it. She got excited and giddy over these little gifts, whether for her or for someone else. It's just how she was, how she always was, and how she probably always would be. "These are _gorgeous._ Who's the lucky guy? You didn't tell me you were seeing anyone."

"I'm not." Beca shrugs it off, barely paying any attention to the red head in her apartment gawking at the bouquet of flowers. "They were just on my desk at work one day. Secret admirer, I guess."

"A _secret admirer_ bought you a _dozen roses?"_ Cue the excitement from her very loud, very overly excited friend. "Beca, this is a huge deal. This guy must really like you."

"Right? That's exactly what I thought, too, Chlo."

"You have _got_ to find out who this guy is."

"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea who it was."

Chloe doesn't notice the tone of her voice, hardly ever does, but for once she's glad she didn't pick up on the sarcasm. "Ask him out!"

"Chloe, relax. I can handle my own love life," she says. "Why are you even here anyway? Shouldn't you be with your mom? Isn't she in town?"

"Oh my god!" Chloe dives forward towards her, reaching for the diamond treble clef necklace resting against her neck. Her tone changes when she speaks next. Not as excited, not as unknowing. "Wow. Beca. That's…that's really pretty."

"Thanks," Beca mutters quietly.

"Who's that from?" Chloe holds the treble clef pendant in her palm, letting it rest softly against her light skin. "I mean, I'm assuming _you_ didn't buy it, cause that must have cost a fortune. Those are real diamonds aren't they?"

"You know, I found this on my desk, too." She tries to play dumb, honestly she does. She doesn't know how convincing she comes across to Chloe though. She was easier to fool than Amy, but she had an uneasy feeling in her stomach about lying to her. This _friend_ she's had since she's been in Los Angeles. It almost didn't feel right. "Must have been the secret admirer, too"

"Wow, you're a lucky girl," she giggles. Almost humorlessly. For a moment, she feels like she's been caught. Something sinister took place in Chloe's vocal reflections. In her eyes. Something that wasn't there moments ago."All these gifts."

"What can I say? I'm irresistible."

"He's buying you gifts now," Chloe states. Not a question. No curiosity in her tone. It's a statement - she's confident in what she's saying

The comment wipes the small smile clean off her pale face.

"What?"

"The flowers, the necklace." Chloe gestures to both of them as she speaks with her hands, looking behind her at the flowers, and dropping the pendant against Beca's neck once more.

"I just told you they were from a secret admirer."

"Beca, cut the bullshit. I know they're from Jesse."

She gives her best _what are you talking about_ voice. She's had a lot of practice at it through the years - she was quite the skilled liar as a child if she does say so herself. "Jesse?"

"I've been friends with him for years. If you don't think I know he's a hopeless romantic, you've got another thing coming."

"I don't know what you're talking about. They're not from Jesse."

"I don't believe you."

"You can believe what you want," she rebuts back. Chloe's found her way back to the flowers, pacing on her apartment floors. Something catches her eye, she stays focused on the flowers, reaching closer to pull at them. Just at it occurs to Beca exactly _what_ she's reaching for, she's already snatched it up in her hands. "Chloe."

" _We'll make this work, I promise_. Not from Jesse, huh?" Chloes shoves the small card back in the bouquet of red. "Wow, I can't even believe you right now."

"Chloe, look…"

"No! _You_ look." Her tone is sharp and hard. Loud. Beca's never heard Chloe talk to her like this before. To anyone. _Chloe._ Sweet, bubbly, energetic Chloe. She hardly gets angry, hardly gets mad at anyone. "He's _engaged."_

"And he's incredibly unhappy!"

"Do you think I don't know that? I've known for a long while their relationship has been on its tail end. I've know since before I got you that job with him! But that doesn't make what you're doing right! That doesn't excuse the fact that you're having an affair with him!"

"It's not…it's not an affair."

"Is that how you're calming your guilty conscious over this all? By telling yourself it's not exactly what it is?" Chloe restlessly wanders back and forth from the front door to the couch Beca's sitting on. "God, I can't even believe you. You have the nerve, the audacity to this. Not even just to them, no. But to _yourself_."

"Look, this isn't some silly little affair, okay? I love him!" She pauses. She hasn't admitted this to herself yet. She knew it was true, but to face it and say it aloud? That was a whole different bridge to cross. She inhales deeply for four seconds, exhales for six. "I'm in love with him."

"You're in love with him, huh?"

"Yes." Beca says it so softly she barely hears the word herself.

"Oh, God. This is like Luke all over again."

"No, it's not." _It's not like Luke,_ she tells herself. _It's not._ But that little voice in her head screams over her thoughts with _it is, it is, it is._

"You know what, Luke was an asshole. And he didn't deserve you. And I'm sorry he screwed you over. But this?" She gestures with her hands around her. To nothing specific, nothing in particular, just in general. The situation. "This one's on you."

"Chloe, c'mon."

"No, you know what," she says quietly, almost inaudible. She grabs her things she came with and motions to the door. "I'm out of here. I can't listen to you defend this situation any longer."

"Chloe!"

"Don't expect me to come picking up the pieces when this doesn't work out the way you want it to."

* * *

"Alright," Sadie says. She closes the fridges and sits at once of the bar stools on the side of their island. "Talk about what?"

"Us."

"Okay," she drags the word out slowly, confusing dangling in her eyes. "What about us?"

"I don't think this isn't working anymore."

"What's not working anymore?"

"Us," he repeats, slower this time.

Her eyebrows furrow against her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Sadie, this relationship hasn't been working for a while."

"Okay…."

"We've been on different paths. We're different people than we were in college. It's just….this isn't working."

"Okay, so what exactly are you saying?"

"I want to call of the wedding."

"So, do you just want to wait until next year or something? Is that what you're saying?"

"No," he sighs, frustrated she doesn't seem to be getting it. He thinks he's being as clear as he can get, and maybe he is. Maybe she just doesn't want to believe what she's hearing. Maybe she wants to convince herself it's not as bad as it is. "I want to call of the engagement. Completely. I think it's time for us to move on."

"Wait." Sadie's hands cover her eyes. She's stressed, he can tell by her subtle movements, the way the lines on her face seem to crease. "Where is this coming from?"

"If we're being honest, I think this has been a long time coming." She doesn't respond, just keeps her eyes on him with a blank expression. "I wanted to talk to you about this last time we sat down and had a talk. But you seemed so….set in your way that you wanted to figure this out. I didn't know how to tell you then."

"I still do want to figure this out," she argues. "That hasn't changed."

"I know it hasn't," Jesse says softly.

"So, what has changed?" Jesse doesn't know how to reply to her question. He's already let her down today, he doesn't want to dig the knife in deeper by telling her about Beca yet. That could come at another time. "You know, it's like you never even _try_ in this relationship anymore."

The anger starts to spill out of her now, he sees the fury in her eyes begin to build. "Excuse me?"

"You're never even here! You're always at the office, or off at some stupid meeting or on some stupid business trip in God knows what city!"

"Are you serious?" His voice rises a little, he doesn't want to yell at her, but he isn't going to sit there without defending himself. "I'm here more than you are. You're always off at some fashion thing. London, Paris, Milan. Seriously, Sadie. You care more about that stuff and your appearance more than you do about me."

"That isn't true." Her tone is softer, but still hard. It cracks just slightly, she tries to cover it up, he he heard it. They'd known each other too long for him to miss a small detail like that.

He swears he sees a single tear fall from the corner of her left eye, but she turns her back to him quickly for him to really catch a glimpse at her. Sadie? Crying? He knew they'd been together a while, but they'd been so distance from each other for so long. He didn't think she'd be so hurt over it, it's not like she'd shown so much emotion over the last so many years they were together.

"You know, Jesse," she starts. "You were the _one_ person I thought who wouldn't hurt me. The one person who I thought wasn't going to leave once we started dating. Turns out I was wrong."

The venom laced in her voice is enough to bother him, but he still can't see to figure out where all the hurt it coming from. They'd been coming to this point for a while, hadn't they?

"I've put so much effort into this relationship. So much hard work and dedication to make sure we stayed as strong as we could. So much more than you have."

"Strong?" He can't help but laugh at that. They'd been anything but strong lately. "Please, explain to me what you've done to help this relationship recently. What have you done?"

"What does that even matter? It's done, isn't it? You've made up your mind, which means mine has to be made up too, doesn't it?"

"Sadie, I'm not hearing any solutions, I'm just hearing you be defensive over the situation."

"I'm not getting down on my hands and knees to beg you to stay with me. I don't _need_ you, Jesse," she spits at him. "You know what? Just go. Just leave."

"This is my house, Sadie."

"Then I'll go," she says. She rushes to the front door. "Don't come chasing after me, it won't do you any good once you've finally realized what a mistake you're making."

The door slams shut and his eyes close upon the impact. It went about as well as he thought it would - not good at all. Jesse just stands there for a moment, replaying the last few moments in his head. The words, the anger, the realization.

They were ending their relationship, so he could begin a new one.

It's weird, he just had her leave their house ( _his_ house, technically, but it was their's in a sense,) and now he finds that he doesn't want to be alone with their exchange replaying over and over in his head.

He grabs his keys and heads to one place he know he can turn to.

* * *

"So, Chloe knows."

"Chloe?" Amy's eyes widen upon hearing the statement. "How'd that weasel figure it out?"

Beca shrugs. "She saw the flowers and the necklace."

"And she pieced it together from that?" She pauses, a deep look of thought etched on her face. "That doesn't sound like my little airhead."

"No, Ames," Beca sighs. "She read the damn card he sent with the roses."

"You mean to tell me you left that out for everyone to read?" Amy's head shakes back and forth, left to right left to right. "You're not very good at having a secret affair, are you?"

"It's not…" Beca can't even finish the sentence before Amy's eyes send her that _are you kidding me?_ look. "Okay, maybe it is."

"Uh-huh, yeah. It is," Amy says. "So, what did little miss ginger have to say about it all?"

"She freaked out." Beca pulls a pillow up from beside her and holds it against her. "What else would you expect from her? She's dramatic. She'd freak out if they stopped selling pumpkin spiced latte's from Starbucks in the fall."

"Chloe does have a flare for the dramatics, yes."

"She yelled a lot," Beca decides to elaborate for her friend. "Basically, she told me I've learned nothing from the situation with Luke. Then she said not to call her when things don't work out. And then she stormed out."

"Well…"

"Oh, God." Beca's head falls into her hands. "You agree with her, don't you?"

"Beca, you _are_ having an affair with an engaged man. I mean, you think you would have learned from last time to not put yourself in that place again. And yet, here we are. _Again_ ," she responds. "And you _knew_ this time. You knew there was someone else and it didn't stop you."

"I know, okay?! I know," she agrees. She really can't disagree, it'd be hypocritical of her and she knows it. Still, it's a sucky situation. She just hates that it all comes back on her shoulders. "It's just…"

"You love him." Beca just nods in response, head down, hands folded in her lap. "I know. I can tell. I see it in your eyes. You're happier than you've been in a while."

Beca's eyes find Amy's in the room, just a small amount of light dancing in the room from the sunset outside.

"And while I'm not thrilled about the situation…," she starts. "I _am_ happy to see my friend excited about her life again."

"Thanks, Amy."

A knock interrupts them. She wasn't expecting company at this time. Or anytime really. She never expected company. Unless…unless it was Chloe - coming back to talk to her more calmly and rationally this time.

"Do you think Chloe's come back to apologize for yelling at me?"

"Doubt it." Amy's shoulders rise and fall as she gets up from the sofa to answers Beca's door. "Let's see, shall we?"

Beca leans back against her couch lazily, gazing out of the corner of her eye to peak around and get a good look at her doorway - she wanted to see who was gonna appear when Amy opened the door. When the door swings open though, it's the last person she expected to see.

It's _Jesse._

She sits up, tidying her shirt and hair and trying to look half way presentable.

"Oh, it's lover boy." Beca _does not_ like the amusement dangling in Amy's voice. Nope, things were about to get weird. "I don't believe we've properly met there, hot stuff. I'm Amy, Beca's much more attractive, _blonde,_ Australian, friend."

"Amy, give it a rest."

"Now, look. I hear you've got a thing for dating _two_ girls at once, but could I interest you in trying to date _three_ girls at once?" Amy winks. She actually _winks_ at Jesse.

"Okay, Amy, that's enough." Beca pulls on Amy's shirt, tugging her back and allowing Jesse into her home. "Seriously, do you ever take a day off?"

Amy finds her way to the kitchen, grabbing a snack before settling back on Beca's sofa and making herself completely at home, flicking through the channels with the remote to find something on TV to watch.

"Amy?"

Amy looks up at the sound of Beca's small voice, munching on the chips she brought in for herself. "What's up, kid?"

Beca rolls her eyes. "Do you think we could…have some time to ourselves?"

"You want me to leave?" Beca's head tilts downwards just once - a slight nod. "Alright, I see how it is." She gets up, keys and phone in hand as she walks past the pair of them. "Jesse, if you get bored with this one…"

"Bye, Amy."

"Alright, alright I'm going."

Beca swings the door shut quietly behind her friend as she finally exits the apartment. "Sorry about her, she's….crazy."

"No worries," he mutters. "It was nice to meet one of your friends."

Beca nods. "So, what brings you out here? Is everything okay?"

"I talked to Sadie."

That is….not what she expected to hear. Don't get her wrong, it's what she wanted to hear, it's what she's wanted to hear for a while now, but if he was here? Was that a good sign or a bad sign?

"And?"

"I told her I wanted to call the engagement off," he says. Jesse reaches for her hands between them, pulling her over to her sofa and sitting down with her, still holding firm on her tiny hands. "And that it was time for us to go our separate ways."

"How'd she take it?" She's anxious about the reply he's going to give her.

"You know it's weird. At first - she was really calm about it all," he says quietly. "And then…it just turned to anger in a split second. Like this switched was turned on."

"Maybe she didn't know how to respond," or how to act."

"Yeah, maybe." His thumb gently rubs of the back of her hand as he nods. "You know, she tried to tell me _I_ was never home. Me. When she's out in who knows what city every week."

"Jess…"

"She also tried to kick me out of my own house." He laughs, it's humorless, but it's a nice departure from his seriousness just a moment ago.

"Did she?"

"Oh yeah," he says.

"What did you do?"

"I had to reminder her that the deed to the house was actually in my name, not hers."

"So, what does this mean for us? Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know, Bec."

"I mean, is it over?" She pulls her hands back from his. "Are we free to be together?"

"Bec, look…"

She hates the way his tone sounds, the way he seems to be thinking hard to put together his thoughts without hurting her. But his phone rings, interrupting him from whichever direction he might have been headed in. Maybe she was just overreacting, her anxiety getting the better of her. _That_ wasn't uncommon. She always assumed the worst about everything.

"I don't know the number," he mutters, pressing the green circular key on his phone to accept the call anyways. "Hello?" His face turns serious. "Is she okay? Alright. Sure. I'll be right there."

"What? What is it?"

"Sadie was in accident.""

She kind of hates the irony. He ends things, they're free, or _supposedly_ free, to be together, and he's already off rushing to save Sadie again. But, it's an accident, she tells herself. He was with her for six years, he is probably still her emergency contact, and of _course_ he'd be worried.

But there's this sinking feeling in her stomach.

 _You're just overreacting, Beca,_ she tells herself - over and over and over again - and she'll keep saying it until she actually starts to believe it.

"Go," she says, loud and strong.

"What?"

"Go, Jesse. It's okay. Go see if she's okay."

Jesse leans forward, pressing his lips gently against her forehead leaving a lingering kiss.

"I'll call you, okay?"

She just nods, Jesse getting up and exiting her apartment without so much as another word.

 _You're just overreacting, you're just overreacting, you're just overreacting._

She still doesn't believe it.

* * *

 _We're winding down to the end here, dear readers._

 _Thanks for reading/reviewing and all that. I really do appreciate it._


	13. Chapter 13

He hates the bright lights, starch white hallways, the uncomfortable feeling that always arises in him from this setting.

The soft hums from the nurses at their station, the constant beeping from the IV drips in each patients room he walks past, the sullen and gloomy looks from relatives in the waiting room awaiting news on their loved ones.

Jesse saunters his way slowly up to a dark skinned nurse at the nurses station. Older. She's wearing bright pink scrubs and seems busy in a file on the computer as she keeps clicking away with the mouse.

"Excuse me?" The nurse looks up. "I'm here for my…" The response has been so automatic in his brain for so long. But it isn't true anymore, is it? "I'm here for Sadie Johnson."

"Oh, Mr. Swanson. You made it." The nurse, who's name he can now see on her name tag - Deb - stands up from her chair to level herself with Jesse. "Sadie has been asking for you."

"Is she…is she okay?"

"Sadie? Oh, she's just fine. Maybe a few cuts and bruises, but that's all," she says confidently. "We told her she was free to go, but she insisted we call you."

Leave it to Sadie to make something sound so much more dramatic than it actually is. It's in her character for sure, but the situation is so much different. This could have been life and death - did she not realize how serious it was to play up something like this? How worried he'd been since he'd gotten the phone call?

"She's fine?"

"She's just fine dear," Deb smiles at him. "She didn't need to come in to be looked at considering there's no injury, but she requested to be checked out by a doctor so they brought her in by ambulance."

Jesse tries to clench his teeth, tries to hide the anger building in him at Sadie pulling something like this. Wasting and using up all these resources when other people actually _needed_ them.

"Do you know what happened exactly?"

"Ms. Johnson was apparently fighting for a closer parking spot in the Barney's parking lot with another driver. And, well, things got aggressive between her and the second driver and she backed up into them."

"Fighting for a parking space?" Jesse can hardly believe what he's hearing. "You've got to be kidding me."

"There was a police report filed, but I do suspect no charges will come about from it considering the circumstances."

Jesse's head hangs low and he clenches his teeth. "Can I see her?"

"Of course, dear. She's in room 3, just to your left behind these doors."

He mutters a quick thanks to the nurse, slowly making his way into the emergency room halls. He finds room 3 exactly where Deb directed him to - a small little cubicle with a single bed in it. And there laying on top of it, looking so much as she did before - he didn't even see a cut of bruise - is Sadie.

"Jesse."

"Sadie."

She sounds surprised when she says, "You came."

"Well, when the hospital called to tell me you were in an accident, I did assume it must have been serious," he states, a bite of anger spilling out with each word he says. "I can see now that it's not, though."

She stays silent, looking down at her hands idle resting her lap. He notices she's not even hooked up to anything - a clear indication that she truly is completely fine. Not that he didn't believe the nurse, no. Just another indication she's wasting resources for people who truly do need them. People he walked by in the waiting room just minutes ago.

He asks her, "Do you have anything to say?"

"Not particularly, no."

"You backed up into someone. At Barney's!" Jesse notices her shriek away from the anger in his tone, from the volume of his pitch. "Fighting over a parking space? Didn't take you that long to get back into your shopping game, did it?"

"I didn't know what else to do, okay?!" Sadie's voice rises with each word, finally jumping in to try to defend herself. But then, softer, quieter, "You didn't want me anymore."

"Sadie, that's not fair."

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. It's just," she begins quietly, hands playing with each other as she tries to find her words. "I wanted to see if you'd even come. See if you even cared enough about me to come see if I was okay."

"That's ridiculous," he says. "It's been six years. No matter if we're together romantically or not, I'm going to care about what happens to you."

"I didn't know if you would."

"I rushed over here…only to find you sitting up, completely fine, not even so much as a scratch," he says. "Do you realize that you're wasting up time and resources of these people? For what exactly? To see if I'd come running to the rescue?"

She doesn't respond, obviously guilty. He sees it in her eyes and the way they seem to sink and appear more sullen.

"There's sick people here. And you're fine. You don't need to be here."

"I know that." It's quiet and reserved the way she says it. She feels bad. At least, she sounds like she does, but she's also very good at putting on a show. If the current situation she's placed herself in isn't an indication of her dramatics, he doesn't know what is. He decides to tread carefully. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this. It was wrong."

"You're right, you shouldn't have."

"Look, things could have been very different today. And I've been sitting here thinking about what if had been different? And how quickly things would have changed if something did happen to me."

He runs his hand through his hair. "What are you trying to say, Sadie?"

"I don't want to give up on this. I know we just talked about it. I know you said you were done, but one more shot. One more try for us to figure this out."

"Sadie, I don't know," he sighs. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"I've been thinking. What if…what if we tried therapy? Some therapy might do us good, make us change our ways and be on the same page again."

"I don't know," he trails off, each word dropping in volume.

"Just…let's give it a few months. And after a few months…if it's not working…we'll do things your way and end things for good."

He can't deny that it's a solution. It's an idea. It's the most progressive idea she's had towards reaching an amicable solution. She'd been so dead set against the idea about a year ago when he brought it up, telling her it might be good to have a third set of eyes in on the situation. To help both of them change their ways, to reach a more common ground. He's shocked to hear her bring it up again all on her own.

And…she seemed sincere.

"Sure, Sadie. We'll try therapy."

* * *

Beca doesn't stop in his office to say good morning like she usually does.

She isn't really sure what she would say or how things will resolve. She's had this sinking feeling in her stomach since he left her apartment in a rush last night. To visit Sadie. In the hospital. She doesn't even know if Sadie's _okay,_ but Jesse did make it into the office on time this morning, so she takes it as a good sign that everything's alright.

But, really. What did this mean for _them?_ Are they still free to be together? Or…have things taken a turn for the worst…again? She thinks Chloe's and Amy's words might finally be coming true, after so long of trying to remain optimistic. She wants to continue to remain optimistic, trying to convince herself it's just a bout of anxiety messing with her. But she can't…it's as if all the hope she'd had has finally run out.

He calls her in his office just before they usually break for lunch. Her stomach's in knots, she doesn't know what to expect when she walks into his corridor. But she walks in anyways - Jesse in his normal position behind paperwork and pens and his head hanging low amongst it all.

"Hey," she mutters softly to grab his attention. "You wanted to see me."

"Yeah," he runs his hand through his hair, - stressed, anxious. She already doesn't like how this is going. "I think we need to talk, Beca."

 _Beca._ Not Bec. It was always Bec with him.

"Okay. About what?" She doesn't know why she asks that. She knows what it's about. She sits down in the chair opposite him, crossing her legs and sinking back as far as she can. "Is Sadie alright?"

A humorless laugh escapes him. "She's fine."

"What?"

"Turns out she backed into someone fighting for a parking space at Barney's," he says. "It wasn't even serious. And trust me, I already laid into her for dramatizing the whole thing."

"Oh," she mutters. "Well, I'm glad she's…okay."

Jesse just nods, staying silent. She lets a few moments pass between them before speaking up again.

"So, what did you need to see me for?"

"I don't really know how to begin."

And just from that - she knows exactly where this conversation is headed and it ends with her walking out of this room in tears. But she'll be damned if she lets him see her get upset over him.

Beca just nods. "It's over, isn't it?"

"Beca, I don't…" A pause. "I care about you so much, and I want to be with you."

"That's obviously not true."

"It's just…she wants to work this out. She wants to _try_ to work this out."

"I've heard that before."

"She suggested therapy," he says. "It's the most progressive thing she's ever suggested."

She stands and turns around, ready to leave and spits out, "I think your relationship problems go beyond the help of therapy, Jesse."

"I can't just say no when she's posing a solution, Beca!"

She turns around, fury twirling in her eyes. She's not holding back now. "Oh, Jesus, Jesse. Yes, you can very much say no!"

His voice drops when he says, "I can't just leave her like that."

"I'm sorry. Like what, exactly?"

"She's trying, which is exactly what I've been wanting to hear from her for years now."

"Exactly, Jesse. Years. _Years_ she has strung you along and _you've_ allowed it to happen."

"I can't just walk away now when she's telling me she wants to try. When she wants to try because things could have been different yesterday and she's scared."

"She was in a fender bender Jesse. She backed into someone in the Barney's parking lot. Fighting over a closer parking space to probably be closer to whatever stupid sale she was trying to go to."

"I can't give up."

"Right, you can't give up. I've heard that before," she rolls her eyes at his words. "Several times just today, actually."

"That's not who I am, Beca! I don't give up on people. I fight for them," he says. "I help them."

"Yeah, everyone except yourself," she shoots back.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You damn well know what it's supposed to mean." Her voice is hard and tough, but she's past the point of caring. Better to lay it all out there on the line now.

"No, really, Beca," he says. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, c'mon Jesse. You're working a job you hate. You're dating a girl you don't want to be with. you fight for everyone but yourself." When he doesn't respond, doesn't even so much as look at her, she keeps going. "What happened to scoring movies? What happened to all _your_ dreams? You might not be giving up on Sadie, but you sure as hell did give up on yourself." Still, he sits there silent. Unmoving. "You don't even love her, you know."

"I'm sorry."

She can't help but notice how he doesn't even disagree with her. He doesn't even try to. He _knows._ He knows he doesn't love her, probably hasn't for a while, but yet he still continues to go around and around in circles.

"So, that's it? You just….we're over before we never even really got a chance to begin?" She's met with silence. Again. His lack of communication skills today is really starting to piss her off. Fine, he didn't want to talk. She'll talk. She's pretty sure he's not liking anything she's got to say to him today, anyways. "So, what happens at work? Do I just go back to doing your shitty tasks and pretending like nothing ever happened between us?

"No, no of course not." His voice is so soft compared to her hard one.

"So, what, Jesse? What, then?" But he doesn't pose a solution. Just sits there in silence twirling his stupid thumbs like he's been this whole time. She motions to the door, hand twisting the knob as she turns her head over her shoulder back at him. "Nothing? Okay. I'll tell you what then. I quit."

She's out the door before he can get a word in, but she does hear him shout out her name behind her.

She feels the emotions start to drain her. Tears start to pool in her eyes and a lump builds in her throat. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_ , she repeats over and over to herself. She wouldn't cry here. She wouldn't let anyone see her upset over this.

It's not until she's in the safety of her car that she allows the tears to fall freely.

* * *

She wipes away the drops of water from her eyes on her way up to her apartment; she didn't want to risk any of her neighbors coming out in the middle of the day and seeing her like this - a mess.

She angrily drops her bag and keys on the floor when she's safely inside of her apartment, the tears coming more freely now. She was alone, she was safe - no one could see her in here like this.

She kind of hates how _right_ Amy and Chloe were. They told her, repeatedly, she was being stupid, being careless. That this wouldn't work out. But she said no - she went in blindly and went in hoping for the best. She's pretty sure she's never felt more stupid in her life.

Beca sinks herself into the couch, tired and drained and exhausted.

She hates how he made her feel - special and cared for. She hates how he made her throw all caution to the wind and jump into this…relationship…with an engaged man. She hates how quickly she became captivated by him. She hates how right it felt, despite how wrong it really was. She hates that he gave her her spark back again, that he made her feel excited about her life again. She hates that he made her feel loved.

But mostly, she hates herself for loving him.

Her phone vibrates in her lap so suddenly; she's not expecting it. She assumes it's Jesse, calling to apologize or whatever bullshit he felt like feeding her again. She wasn't in the mood for him and his stupid lies anymore. She pulls the phone up, with every intention of turning it off when she see's Jesse's name flashing across the shiny screen.

But…it's not his name in white letters on the screen.

It's an unknown number - she doesn't recognize it, but it does have a Los Angeles zip code. Again she thinks, maybe it's just Jesse using a different phone to get into contact with her, but that seems ridiculous to her. He wouldn't try to trick her like that. Despite how pissed and hurt she was at him right now, she knows that's not something Jesse would do to her.

She wipes away her tears furiously before she hits the green call button on the third ring, bringing the speaker to her ear and muttering a quick, "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm looking to speak with Beca Mitchell."

"This is Beca," she responds lightly. Who was looking to talk with her?

"Hi, Beca. My name's Sarah, I'm one of the hiring managers here with Universal."

"Oh," she says, shock laced her in tone. _This_ was a surprise. "Hi, how are you?"

"I'm great," Sarah replies sweetly. "Beca, one of our talent scouts here came across the demos you submitted to us, just a while back."

"Right! Yes, okay, hi."

"We were really impressed with your work, and we're currently looking to fill some positions in both our New York and Los Angeles locations and we think you'd make a great addition to our team. We were wondering if we could bring you in for a small interview to get an idea of where you'd like to be within our company?"

The timing of this all….so weirdly perfect. If she needed a change, if she needed an out…she needed it now. It's almost like that saying goes - when one door closes, another one opens.

Beca knows exactly what she needs to do.

"Absolutely, I would love to come in for an interview."


	14. Chapter 14

_Penultimate chapter, y'all. (Okay, unless the final chapter becomes too long, I might split it in half, but I'm not planning to.)_

 _This chapter was so hard to write! I don't even really know why…I just couldn't pull it out of myself._

 _Alright. I'll stop talking. Happy reading._

* * *

"Where's Beca today? Is she sick again?"

Stacie.

Her voice comes over the dull hums of silence that had engulfed his room for the whole morning. He'd been doing pretty good at avoiding anyone and anything for half his work day; he just knew it would come to an end eventually. Seems like now was that moment. He didn't want to face this, didn't want to talk. He wasn't ready yet, but he didn't think he'd ever really be _ready._ He takes a deep breath before replying.

"Beca is no longer employed by this company."

"I saw her storm out of here yesterday," she says, leaning against the door frame just so. "She looked upset."

That stings. The last thing he ever wanted to do was upset Beca, or _hurt_ Beca. Yet, it's exactly what happened - and it's all his doing. He can't put the blame on anyone but himself.

"She quit."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Stacie," he says. " _She_ quit."

"Okay, I'll ask again," she starts. "What the _fuck_ did you do?"

"Why do you assume it was something I did?"

"I don't think I've ever met someone who quit a job and walked out in tears because of it," she says, sitting across him. "Seriously, what happened?"

Jesse sighs. "We had a fight."

"About?"

"My inability to leave Sadie," he says. And then, quieter, much softer, "And me working a job I hate."

"Well, good." Stacie crosses her legs, right over left. "I'm glad someone finally told you off."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's about time someone knocked some sense into you," she says. "You try too hard to please everyone."

"I know. I know I do."

"I really thought she was gonna be the one to really wake you up this time." Stacie leans against the back of the chair. "So, what happened?"

"I ended things with Sadie," he starts quietly. He notices how Stacie's eyes light up at this. She was never a fan of his relationship with Sadie - she respected it, sure, but it was clear she knew it wasn't going to last forever from the first day he met her. "I told her it was time we moved on from each other and go our separate ways." He pauses a moment. "Beca and I were going to be together."

"I don't see the problem with that."

"Well, I'm not finished yet," he laughs humorlessly. "Sadie got into a little fender bender. She started posing all these solutions and she wanted to give it another try. Give us another chance to make things work."

"Jesse, please don't tell me you agreed to that nonsense."

"The thing is….I did."

"Jesse! What were you thinking? What _are_ you thinking?"

"I don't know, Stacie, okay? I don't know."

"Why are you still trying with her, Jesse?" Stacie pushes forward a little on the chair. "I know that the 'fiancé' title has been there for a long time, but you haven't been in that relationship mentally for over a year now."

"I know, it's just," he stops a moment, gathers his thoughts, "I don't want to fail. I don't want to be a failure."

"Jesse, ending a relationship doesn't make you a failure. _Staying_ in a dead end relationship does."

He doesn't respond to her statement - he doesn't know how to. It strikes a chord with him. Maybe she was right. Maybe he'd had the wrong mentality about this all along…

"I thought she was finally gonna be the one that pushed you to end it with her, to just leave and finally do something for yourself for once," she mutters quietly, gently. A friend was what he needed right now and he's happy that's exactly what she's being for him. "Maybe make you stop working this nine to five business job and finally start to go after what you really want."

"I thought so, too." Stacie doesn't respond to his statement. "I messed up, Stacie."

"And not to say I didn't approve of the whole cheating thing. But I can't deny what I saw when you were with her. Your eyes sparked up, you were more present. You were _happy._ " Stacie smiles when she talks about _him_ being happy. And he can't help but think…she was right. He _was_ happy when he was with Beca. A sort of freedom he couldn't remember feeling in a long while. "And sure, while the circumstances might have been wrong, I can't be mad or upset at the situation when my friend is happy for the first time in I can't even remember when."

Stacie stands up, ready to head back to her own desk for the afternoon, but not without leaving him one more thought: "You know, I'm gonna stick by you no matter what. I'm always gonna be you're friend. I just want you to be happy. Be with who makes you happy. Be with the girl who makes you excited again. If that's with Sadie…great. If it's Beca, that's awesome. If it's not either of them…that's fine, too."

He's left alone again, silence surrounding him. Except, now the silence is the last thing he wants.

* * *

"I can't help but laugh at the fact that I'm back exactly where I started before I got into this mess. Unemployed and miserable."

"Don't forget single."

Beca rolls her eyes at that. There's a bottle of red wine on her coffee table, two empty glasses laid out before her. The TV is turned on to some dumb romantic comedy Amy picked out about an hour ago - not that they were paying much attention to any of it.

"I hate to say I told you so…so I'm not going to say it."

"Thank you." Beca reaches for the wine on the table and refills her glass. She's on her third glass for the night - not that she's counting or anything.

"I did tell you, though."

Beca just groans out loud, throwing her head back in a dramatic fashion. "I hate you so much sometimes, you do know that, right?"

"You could never hate me."

There's a knock on the door just a few moments later - Chloe. It had to be; she was the only person she invited over tonight. It's not like it would be Jesse anymore. Not since he decided he wanted to spend his life of misery with his stupid fiancé. Not that she's bitter about it or anything…

The door swings open to reveal Chloe, bright eyed and smiling - just like she always seemed to be. "Hi!"

"This is all your fault."

Her bright smile turns upside down instantly. "What did I do?"

"You got me that fucking job with Swanson in the first place."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Chloe walks in, smiles at Amy sitting on the couch and makes herself comfortable beside the blonde. "What's going on?"

"Things with lover boy didn't seem to have that fairytale ending she was hoping for."

"You got me that stupid job. Made me fall in love with that stupid, fucking, idiot." She checks the details off with her hand, using a finger to indicate each one in front of her friends. "Now, I'm right back where I started. Jobless." Beca falls effortless into the soft cushion adjacent to the couch. "But on top of jobless, I also look like the worlds biggest idiot."

"Did I miss something?" Chloe, face crinkled and eyes narrow, trying so desperately to figure out what she's missed. "Why do you look like an idiot? Why don't you have a _job?_ "

Beca just sits silent, arms crossed angrily across her chest, so Amy decides to step in. "Jesse….told Beca he was going to end things with Sadie."

"Okay, yeah. I knew that."

"And…well, he _did_ end things with Sadie."

Chloe's eyes dart to her brunette friend on the second sofa. "What?"

"But…he changed his mind and went back to her."

"What?"

A click of the tongue. "Yeah."

"That's….you guys have to know this a tough position for me, being friends with both of you, but, Beca," Chloe trails off, losing energy with each word. "I'm sorry. He shouldn't have led you on like that."

"I should have known better," she says. "I was stupid to even go along with it."

"Still, I'm sorry he hurt you."

Silence surrounds the three friends, until Beca speaks up again just a few minutes later.

"I do have something else to tell you guys." The two girls wait silently in anticipation for Beca to continue. "I got a job at Universal."

Chloe just shrieks, while Amy lets out a cohesive, "Congrats, dude."

"Thanks, but…there's more."

"Oh, no." Chloe's face falls flat.

"They offered me my choice of location. Here or…New York."

"New York?" Amy eyes even widen at the news, that's when Beca knows it's serious.

"Beca, you can't leave!"

"I don't _want_ to leave. Los Angeles is my home. It's just…I kinda feel like I need to do this." Beca pauses. "It'd be a fresh start. New scenery and new surroundings…I just don't know if I could leave L.A."

It's Amy who asks, "So, what are you gonna do?"

* * *

He takes the day off work.

It'd been two days since his fight with Beca. Two days of endless and tireless work, two days of trying to remain completely focused on mindless tasks in the office and keep his mind off everything.

Two whole days of utterly failing.

He makes it to Friday, wakes up a little past nine (the longest he's slept in a long while), and decides to shoot Stacie a quick email that he won't be making it in today - he needed a day to rest.

Jesse makes himself breakfast - a meal he can't remember eating like this. He usually just grabbed a bite of a granola bar or something small. Or skipped breakfast all together - his hectic schedule didn't allow him to stay on top of a nutritious diet.

Afterwards, he puts on a movie. He can't even remember the last time we watched a movie like this. The last time he sat down to watch a movie was….with Beca.

 _Beca._

God, he felt like such an idiot. He shouldn't have led her on, just to tear her down. He shouldn't have allowed himself to feel so much happiness if he knew he wasn't going to be able to stick with it. He just…he wishes he could change things. Go back and time and not break Beca's heart, not accept Sadie's once again poor attempt at keeping him reeled in. He didn't even know why he did it, why he's such a coward, why he can't seem to let himself just…move on.

From Sadie…from his dad's company…it was all too much.

He tries to shove all the thoughts racing through his mind to the back, tries to let it go for just the few hours he'll have to himself with the film he has on. Movies never fail to take him away, put him in a different world and just forget about his own life and his own problems for a while.

And until the credits start rolling, it seemed to work.

But then he's left alone with his thoughts again.

The silence haunts him like a bad dream. Over and over and over again, he keeps replaying the conversation he had with Beca. The way her eyes seemed to glow with a hint of hurt - just before her defenses were up and she went off on him. He could see it in the way she flinched just slightly, eyes glossy and starting to fill with tears.

But the doorbell disrupts him, breaks up his thoughts, forces him to pull out of that trance. Jesse heads to the door, finding the mailman on the opposite side of the door frame. George had been his mailman since he bought the house, an older man, probably close to sixty. He had always been so kind to him. He hadn't seen George in months. Years? He couldn't recall - it'd been too long to properly remember.

"Didn't fit in your mailbox." George motions to the big manila envelope in his hands, along with the other few smaller white postings he's holding. "Thought I'd bring it up to the door for you."

"Thanks, George." Jesse takes the papers from his mailman's hand. "Have a good day."

"You have a good one, too, Jesse."

Jesse shuts his door once the older man makes it back into his USPS truck, and only then does he take notice to what he's actually holding in his hands.

But…it couldn't be. Could it?

He opens it quickly, pulling out the letter and all the brochures that were inside with it. He begins to read:

 _Dear Jesse,_

 _The School of Cinematic Arts of USC is pleased to inform you of your acceptance for the fall semester._

He doesn't bother reading the rest.

He takes out the welcome pack, the informational brochure, important dates and phone numbers. A calendar for the school year. He can't believe it. Film school… It's something he'd been wanting since he was a teenager. The way movies moved him, the way the music elevated it to another level, brought a whole new emotion and dynamic to the story.

 _That's_ what he wanted to do. He didn't want to run his parents jewelry company. He wanted to score movies and give people the same feeling and joy he had back when he was younger.

He can't even believe he was _accepted_ to USC. He didn't even think it would seriously happen. He'd applied on a whim what seems forever ago. Back on the night with….Beca. When they worked late together and then went out for dinner. The night they really got to know each other, the night he started considering her an actual _friend._

God, he's such an idiot.

In the one night he started to get to know her, she'd inspired him to go home and finally put in his application to his dream school. If it only took one night for him to be that inspired to that that leap of faith…he couldn't even being to imagine what he'd be capable of doing if he was with her. Really with her. Like he promised her they would be.

There's not even a single doubt inside him, not a single question he has to ask himself. He knows exactly what he needs to do.

He pulls up his black iPhone and dials the all to familiar number to his parents house - the one he'd grown up in since he was six years old. His dad's voice rings in his ears just after two rings. "Jesse! How's everything going?"

"Hey dad," he says. Quietly. He doesn't want to her hurt his dad, but he has to do it. He thinks of Beca…it gives him the confidence to continue. "I think we need to talk about the future of the company. Well, _my_ future with the company."

* * *

He hangs up the phone with his dad a while later.

It was a long conversation….but, not for the reasons he thought. His dad was more than supportive, offering to take over the operations of the business until he found someone he could put into the position. His father seemed more confused than anything. Hurt, that his eldest child wouldn't feel comfortable enough to go to his own parents and tell them how he really felt.

He just hates that he's wasted all these years now that everything was out in the open and that everything was so well received.

But, he doesn't have time to dwell on the past. His front door opens, Sadie trailing into the kitchen, finding a water bottle in the fridge. "Hey, Jess."

It seems stupid to waste anymore time now.

"I'm glad you're home," he says. "I think it's time we talk, Sadie. _Really_ talk."

* * *

Sadie leaves about an hour later, suitcase in tow with some items of clothing and other necessities she didn't want to be without for a few days. She'd return later in the week to pick up the rest, once she was a little more settled into adjusting to living with her sister on the East Coast.

Relief rushes over him like a wave when the door closes behind her and he hears her car engine rev up and pull out of the long driveway.

It was over. It was finally, truly over and done with.

It's as if he's had a brick weighing against his chest all these years and someone's finally lifted it off of him.

The next thing he does is pull out his acceptance letter and indicate that yes, Jesse Swanson will be attending the University of Southern California in the fall of next year.

He just has one thing left to do.


	15. Chapter 15

"I can't believe you're leaving."

"I know." Disbelief laces in her voice. Beca gestures around her to the completely empty apartment, their voices echoing through the space, nothing there to grab on to their voices and stop it from traveling. There's nothing left in the tiny space besides herself and her friends. "It feels weird, doesn't it?"

Chloe stands with her arms crossed against her chest, eyes darting around the once full of life apartment. "So weird."

"I've been in this apartment since I moved here." Beca remains standing by her carry-on suitcase; the rest of her furniture and belongings already packed and picked up in a U-Haul and on it's way across the country. "It feels weird to be leaving."

Amy's nudges her lightly in the arm, a clear attempt to cheer her up, bring her out of the small trance she's in. "We made a lot of memories here."

"Yeah." Beca feels herself getting more emotional with each passing second, and she knows her two friends notice it, because Chloe steps closer to her and pulls her into her side.

"It's time to make some new memories though," Chloe says. "In a new place. In a new city."

Amy takes a step towards her front door, pulling Beca's luggage out with her, asking, "You ready?"

Beca just nods wordlessly, placing her two sets of keys to the apartment on the kitchen counter, as requested by the landlord, following her two friends out the front door into a land of unknown.

* * *

He wakes up that morning feeling hopeful.

He was going to talk to Beca today.

Jesse makes his way over to her apartment complex early that morning. He makes it to the third floor, ready to knock on her door and hopefully catch her awake at this early hour. But, when he goes to lift his hand, he notices the door is open, just slightly. Beca never left her door open, she never even left it _unlocked_. He pushes it in gently, revealing behind him the completely barren apartment.

Empty.

Completely and totally wiped of all furniture and signs of life.

The couch in the living room where she fell asleep against him that time she was sick…gone. The Keurig machine that used to sit on top of her kitchen counter…gone. The desk that held all her music equipment…gone. Everything….gone.

It was all gone.

Jesse wanders down to the apartment complex leasing office, asking the front desk receptionist if they happened to know where the girl in apartment 307 was. But he doesn't like their response.

"Beca? She moved out this morning."

An uneasy feeling settles in to his stomach.

* * *

"I really can't believe you're leaving."

"Hey," she says, that _don't you dare_ tone in her voice slipping out. "None of that sad shit, okay? You're still gonna be hearing and seeing plenty of me."

"You _are_ going to keep in touch right? None of that bullshit you used to pull, right?" Chloe stands to the right of her, nudging her lightly in the side. "No pushing us away and going silent."

"Of course not. You both aren't getting rid of me that easily," she puts a small smile on her face, although inside, she's nervous and anxious. And, well, she's sad, too. She's leaving her home behind, her friends behind, any semblance of a life she built here behind. "You better come and visit me."

"Only all the time." Amy says.

"Good luck, Bec."

"Yeah, good luck," Amy encourages. "Go take that music industry by storm."

"We love you, Bec." Chloe pushes forward, wrapping the tiny brunette in her arms. Amy joins in, too, the three of them standing in the drop of lane with their arms wrapped around each other.

"I love you guys, too," Beca says when she pulls away a moment later. She notices tears escaping Chloe's eyes, feeling her own start to well behind her lids. "Hey, you promised! No crying!"

"Okay, okay." Chloe wipes away the tears from her cheek. "Get out of here before I don't let you go to New York."

She reaches for her suitcase when Amy says, "Call us when you land," and she just nods in response.

She walks towards the automatic double doors, opening as she nears the sensors, but not before turning around on her heels to wave a final goodbye at her two friends standing off near the sidewalk.

* * *

Jesse makes it back to his car after his encounter with the receptionist at Beca's apartment complex with only one option in mind to find some answers.

He fidgets with his fingers, dialing quickly and anxiously the number he knows by memorization on his black iPhone. It rings once, twice, three times. He's about to hang up, out of hope and out of options when her small voice comes through the speaker, " _Hello?_ "

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Chloe! I'm glad I reached you."

"Jesse. Hey," he hears the music in the background turn down then. "What's up?"

"It's just…" Jesse pauses, finding his words. "Do you happen to know where Beca is by chance?"

"Jesse, look…"

"I just went by her apartment and it was empty."

He hears some ruffling around in the background, then Amy's voice comes out over the commotion - _don't tell him,_ she says, clear, but obviously trying to be quiet so he _wouldn't_ hear as clearly.

"Is everything alright? I mean, is she okay?"

"She's fine, Jesse." A pause again, followed once more by Amy's stern tone of warning Chloe to _not_ tell her about Beca. But, she doesn't follow Amy's advice, because the next thing that comes out of her mouth is, "Beca's at the airport. We just dropped her off."

That takes him by surprise. He tries to think of her mentioning a vacation or something…but nothing comes to mind. "What do you mean she's at the airport?"

He hears Chloe let out a loud sigh. "She got a job with Universal and she's moving to New York."

"What?" He can barely think straight now. That's it. He messed up his chance when he had one, and now it's too late. "Why New York?"

"She did have the choice to work here, but….." She stretches the word out long and slow. "She chose New York, Jesse."

"And she chose to go? Why would she do that?"

"Why do you think she did that Jesse? She's heartbroken. She wants a fresh start."

"Which…" A pause. He takes a second to gather the thoughts racing through his mind. "Which airline is she flying? Which terminal is she in?"

"JetBlue, why?" He doesn't answer her, knowing full well she would stop anything he was about to do. It takes her a moment, but she seems to connect the dots. "Jesse, don't do anything stupid. Just let her go, please. She's been hurt enough."

He just leaves her with this: "Okay, I gotta go. Thanks, Chloe."

* * *

Everything feels weird…and unnatural walking through the airport that morning.

It's odd, because she's been in LAX dozens of times before. But, it's different this time. She's not coming home in a few days. She's not returning to her cozy little one bedroom apartment after a vacation to visit her dad or her mom. She's really leaving. For good.

She makes her way through airport security with plenty of time to spare. Beca grabs herself a coffee from Starbucks, finds her gate, and settles into a chair to wait out the remainder of the duration until her flight to the Big Apple.

* * *

He rushes up to to the ticket counter once he makes it indoors.

The line isn't terribly long, but it's long enough to make him anxious and agitated. He waits impatiently, time seeming to move so slow in that moment. And then finally, he's next, the woman behind the counter motioning him forward to her station.

"How can I help you today, sir?"

Bluntly, he says. "I need a ticket. I don't care to where."

"Excuse me?" The woman seems perplexed.

"I just…I need a ticket so I can get through security," he explains. "I need to see someone waiting for a flight."

"Umm…" She seems hesitant to his words, his logic, but nonetheless she skims through her computer listings and seems to come up with an option for him. "I can get you on the next flight to Dallas."

"Sure, whatever. I don't care." He reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

"But, as it is the last seat available and it's last minute, the rate for the one way flight will be $648."

"Okay. Yeah. Whatever." He hands his American Express over to her. "Just make it quick."

* * *

"Beca."

She looks up at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. She couldn't miss his voice anywhere. Her eyes widen in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

He sits beside her in the empty seat. "Congrats. On the job. That's huge, Bec. I'm so proud of you."

"What do you want, Jesse?"

"Look, I don't want…I'm not here to tell you to stay, I'm not going to do that to you. I just…I wanted to talk to you. I needed to talk to you."

"Jesse, I don't know. I think you've talked enough. I get it, you don't want to be with me. It's fine, really."

"Just…five minutes. Please. Five minutes."

She looks at him - desperation clear in his eyes, wide and open. Everything in her is telling her to not accept his proposal, but she nods regardless, silently telling him to continue.

"I'm sorry."

Beca rolls her eyes. "Look, if you're here to just apologize and spew more bullshit at me, you can just go."

"Please, Beca. Just…let me explain myself. And then if you don't ever want to see me again, I'll respect that. I'll…walk out of this airport and you won't ever hear from me again."

"Fine, just…can we go…somewhere more isolated? People are watching."

He leads here over to the end of the terminal, right by the floor to ceiling windows by the runway, overlooking as the planes take off to their destinations. It's much quieter - just the two of them; no one waiting for a flight down here.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I put you though. I'm sorry for leading you on, only to bring you down. That wasn't my intention. I didn't want to bring you down." Genuine, his words were genuine, she can't dispute that. "The thing is…you were right about me. I'm a coward. I didn't know how to stand up for myself. I didn't know how to make myself happy, out of fear of disappointing anyone else."

She keeps her eyes towards the window, watching the planes and workers outside in the morning air. She doesn't trust herself to look directly at him.

"But the thing is…you were changing that in me. You were making me better. Happier. I was happier with you than I could remember being in….so long, Beca. I can't remember the last time I was excited about my future with Sadie. But the thought of a future with you…it made me excited and anxious. I could't wait to see where it was going to." He pauses and she turns to him just slightly, watching him as he speaks. "And, Beca, I might have been a coward for longer than I needed to be, but if I hadn't met you…I'd still be with Sadie, in a dead end relationship and working towards nothing that would have made me happy. I would have never felt that spark. You've made me want to fight for myself and what I want again."

He waits a moment before continuing.

"And it's been you all along. Because when had dinner that first time a while back, when we were stuck working late one night, do you remember?" She nods wordlessly, hanging on to every word he says. "You said a lot of things to me. A lot of things that pushed me. And made me uncomfortable, too. Because you were right about a lot of things, and you made me go outside of my comfort zone. That was _you_. It was you who inspired me to go home that night and finally send in my application to film school." He pulls out an envelope from the inside of his coat pocket, folded into thirds, and he passes it over to her slowly. She feels his eyes on hers when she opens it, reading the words _congratulations, accepted, USC,_ and it all clicks in her head. "It's because of you I was accepted."

"Jesse," she breathes, holding the acceptance letter tightly in her hand. "Congratulations. This is…I'm really proud of you."

"You were right about something else, too."

Her eyes look up into his, blue meeting brown. "What?"

"I'm not in love with Sadie," he says quietly, reaching a hand out to cup the side of her face with his palm. "I'm in love with you."

"Jesse."

"I know, okay. You've got a huge job opportunity waiting for you in New York," he says, brushing the side of her face with his thumb. "I don't want you to miss out on that. I'm proud of you, I really am. I just…I didn't want you to leave without you knowing how I feel about you. About us."

And suddenly…she has two choices laid out in front of her.

Beca looks to her right, at the airplanes outside the window. One speeding down the runway in front of her, lifting off the Earth's ground with such ease. One of those ready to take off and fly her away, ready to take her on a new adventure in New York.

Then to her left, at Jesse…at who she could have a fresh beginning with. The guy who's apologized, explained everything to her, taken initiative to change his life. Confessed his _love_ for her. The one thing a week ago she wanted more than anything.

She takes a deep breath and steps forward.

* * *

 _Okay, even I'm not that mean to just leave it there. There is an epilogue coming._


	16. Epilogue

**_Five Years Later…_**

The arena's bright lights shine glaringly around the crowd.

All she can hear around her is the repetitive clicking on the dozens and dozens of cameras that fill the arena's space. The lights flashing on and off and on and off, over and over again, everyone in the crowd trying to take their best shot at the stage front and center of the building.

The speaker on stage drags on and on and on. Making some speech that she assumes is suppose to be uplifting and inspiring. But she doesn't even know what the speaker is talking about - she hasn't been paying much attention the entire time she's been here.

But when he's finally done speaking and he's walked off stage, she's relieved, only to have another voice start filling the area, echoing on the speakers lined through the venue.

More speeches.

She zones out again - events like this totally aren't her thing. Even though her career requires her to attend so many events similar to this; large crowds, speeches, recognizing achievements across the industry. She figured she'd be used to them by now, but it's something she hasn't really grown accustomed to. She loves her job, she loves music, she could just do without that side the business.

But then, she sees him. Off to the corner, all full of smiles. Her eyes lift up at the sight of him, off on the side of the stage and soon to be called. Her focus shifts back into gear, just in time to hear his name called off the scroll. "Jesse Swanson."

She lets out a, 'Whoo,' from her seat, holding both hands close around her mouth to get as much volume into it as she can. It's so out of character for her, but she can't help it. She's so proud of what he's accomplished, so happy to have been here to witness it all at his graduation from USC.

It's after, when all graduates are amongst the crowd, Beca finds herself pushing through people looking for him in his cap and gown. Finally, from behind her, she hears, "There's my girl."

She turns around quick, launching herself into his arms, him tightly wrapping his right back around her, lifting her up and spinning her around amidst the busy arena floor. "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm pretty proud of me, too," he smiles, placing her back down on the ground gently. Beca looks him up and down, Jesse looking knowingly at her. "You're checking me out aren't you?"

"I might be."

"You can say it, Beca," he eggs on. "I look good, don't I?"

"You're alright."

Jesse reaches forwards, lifting her left hand with ease and lacing their fingers together. "What do you say we get out of here?"

"Yeah," she nods, letting him guide her out of the crowded auditorium into the fresh air. "Where do you want to go for your celebration dinner?"

" _My_ celebration dinner?"

"Well, yeah," she says. "You did just graduate from film school."

"This is as much your night as it is mine, Ms. Mitchell."

"Jesse."

"Hey, not all of us can say we have a recording session with Taylor Swift in the morning!" His arm slips around her shoulders as they walk to his car. " _That_ is something we celebrate."

And as they walk together in the parking lot, laughing, smiling, _happy_ , there's only one thing she can think of.

She has everything she's every wanted in this moment. She has great friends, she has her dream career. She has _Jesse_.

Their journey together may have been long, and it may have been hard. But through all the ups and downs, they found their way to each other, found a way to make it work in the end and well...

It feels right.

/

 _Y'all. This has been a ride. I can't believe I've finished a full length fic. I never thought that would happen. Thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, favorited, followed…all of it. The support you gave me was what kept me going._

 _And I know this isn't your traditional full closured ending, but I like open endings. You get to decide what you think happened in the five year gap!_

 _Now…what to write next?_


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